Daughter Figure
by Ms Western Ink
Summary: She had made up her mind to be his daughter figure. In the midst of her confusion, Aoshi changes his mind and Misao loses her way. [AxM]
1. I of VIII

**Daughter Figure**

_Part 1 of 8 _

_Revised June 18, 2011 12:39PM_

* * *

_Disclaimer_: I do not own Rurouni Kenshin.

**The disguise cliché fic.**

* * *

Misao stared at the kid with a small, but unhappy, smile. He was really quite cute, she thought, never ceasing to be amazed at his little crush on her, his life, his youth, his boundless energy. Once, the terms people had used to describe her, but times were changing as they so inevitably do. Once upon a time she'd have been flattered, charmed by the attention now she was just bothered.

She couldn't help but feel that had been like this once. Young, sweet, and positively convinced she was in love and would be forever. Because love was forever, at least her kind of love was. She had been just like this with her Aoshi-sama.

It gave her an entirely new understanding now, of what he might be feeling toward her for all these years when she'd followed after him. Aoshi had been like her guardian. He took care of her like she looked after this boy for years. She had been brooding over it all week while she tended the kid while his parents were away. Watching neighborhood children and boarding them at the Aoiya was surprisingly good money as long as they stayed out of the restaurant. The family didn't seem to mind the extra company at dinner and they could use all the help they could get there sometimes.

Her mind, however, wasn't on dinner. It was on Aoshi-sama. Again. Rehashing reasons why her quest to make him love her had failed and she thought, perhaps, she understood now. It wasn't possible to touch something that wasn't there. To attain something that _couldn't_ exist...

It was depressing. She felt pale and nauseated and… well, she felt like an adult. Feeling like an adult, she quickly determined, sucked, but there was absolutely no way around it. So, ever since yesterday she'd been preparing herself for what she could only see as the inevitable. She'd been slowly loosening the reins on her hopes for Aoshi, preparing to release them completely. If she didn't… if she kept up, her clinginess might just drive him away again. Home wasn't supposed to be what she was making it for him. She would have to stop.

She had no choice.

She would have to return being what she'd always been to him. The only thing she'd ever be able to be - his daughter figure. The only thing, really, he'd ever _let_ her be… She hung her head sadly. Maybe, to prove this point, she could try to find someone for him, a little matchmaking scheme like her Jiya would do. Try to find someone else that could make her beloved happy. It would only make her feel sicker inside, but maybe, once she fully accepted it, maybe they could actually be amicable friends one day. His stony silences were, frankly, tiring. He was wearing her down not the other way around.

She would give him up; she'd already determined it. She wasn't indecisive, her mind was made up. That was the lie she'd live from this point forward starting tomorrow. No one would have to know but her that it was a dirty ugly lie that she was going to force like the truth...

No one but her would live in this private hell. She wouldn't accept their pity or sympathy. She was an Oniwabanshuu ninja, she could handle this. Emotions... Emotions were nothing. She wasn't weak. Everything could be conquered. Everything got easier with practice.

She picked her head up and followed after young Takeo as he trotted along. He went home tomorrow with his mother... and then... then she'd start building her fantasy world. The trap for her misery and true thoughts so that she could hopefully release Aoshi-sama and maybe one day accept a world where he was just Shinomori Aoshi.

The question was— how to do that?

* * *

Misao yawned as she sat up in her futon, noting the high placement of the sun. It was late morning, much later than she usually rose. By now she had usually served Aoshi his tea in the Temple. She hadn't intended to jilt him of his mid-morning tea, on the contrary, she'd been up late, agonizing over her, well, her plan of action. The fact that she'd been awake when the sun starting lighting the sky hadn't been a good indicator of how her day was going to go.

What was the best way of going about this? How did you show someone you just wanted to ... to be friends? She hung her head. It was too early in her morning for this much angst.

She pulled herself out of bed. There was so much she needed to do today. She promised Omasu she'd go to town for some kitchen supplies. There was also a message that needed sent, a package to be delivered to the train station for shipping, dropping a note off at the shop downtown for Okon and then there was Aoshi-sama's tea.

She wanted so direly not to go, but... If she didn't go... what if he became worried? She might want to prove to him that she wasn't holding out any hopes of passionate love but she didn't want to arouse any undue suspicion. It needed to be gradual to be perceived as natural.

She pulled on her clothes and stood. She needed to get going, she could agonize about it later. The downstairs living quarters were empty. Even Jiya would be out front with the customers trying to flirt with young girls. Misao had thought once that he might marry but that looked like it would never happen.

She sighed, straightening her clothes and gathering her strength.

Today was the day. She stepped out and took a deep breath. She could do this.

* * *

Aoshi was in a state of meditation when he heard the footsteps. It was not Misao, of that he was certain. She had a very certain step, quick and light that, as it came closer to him always slowed with deliberation. The footsteps approaching him had been steady and confident.

"Good morning, Aoshi-sama. I brought your tea for you."

He lifted his head, eyes flickering open to find Okon had sat the tray down and was kneeling beside it.

"Where is Misao?" he asked, voice deadpan and even.

"I think she's still sleeping. She spent the past week caring for Takeo while his parents were away. She wouldn't leave his side for a moment, and his crush on her is really so cute."

Takeo? Who was Takeo, he wondered. He thought as Okon prepared his tea, trying to figure out who that was. The name was completely unfamiliar to him.

"Who is Takeo?" Asking was the easiest route to the answer, and so he did.

"The little boy that's been hanging around the Aoiya all week, you haven't noticed him?" her surprise surprised him. When he said nothing, she continued.

"He's the son of a friend of Misao's. They had to go out of town and Misao agreed to keep him while they were gone. Actually, he's just one of several kids that Misao looks over - she knows an entire troop of kids in town." Standing, Okon forced a smile. "Well, I need to get back. Misao said she was going to town for us today."

Aoshi merely nodded and Okon gratefully escaped the icy gaze of her former Okashira. This many years home and he still couldn't hold a fluent conversation with any of them?

Pathetic.

* * *

Misao didn't want to help in the kitchen, she couldn't cook anyway. Didn't enjoy it at least, she could handle the task well enough. She didn't want to work in the dining room either, so... what did she want to do? She couldn't sit around brooding about how to put her_ 'just friends'_ plan into action.

At least, she hadn't. She could always, as she thought earlier, go the way of the matchmaker. What better way to show him she'd moved on than to push some other woman into those beautiful arms of his?

She was excited for all of half a minute before she determined she couldn't bear the torture and let it go. Wouldn't it just be disgusting to see another woman on his arm? In his life? She could always leave the Aoiya. Not forever. She loved it too much to abandon the place, just for a little while. Give Aoshi his breathing room; let him know she wasn't going to pester him anymore. But then he might do something stupid and insulting by insisting she not travel by herself because she was too young. Or because she was a girl.

Annoyed, with him or herself, she decided she wasn't going to take him tea either. He was more than capable of gathering it himself. He could make the trip to the Aoiya his tea pilgrimage. She nodded.

It sounded good enough.

Thusly determined, she put her plan into action.

* * *

Aoshi stared into the cold tea cup, staring into the light colored liquid. He didn't enjoy the tea nearly so much as he enjoyed the female who brought it to him. He could very well go everyday without the tea. Without Misao it all seemed rather mundane and... Dare he say, pointless? Misao was, in truth, his most companiable human interaction. Without her there was… what? Stilted silences with the others?

He stood, grabbing the tray fully prepared to head out of the place that had once been sanctuary. It had been nearly two hours since Okon had brought the tea, and he just couldn't sit there with that ominous china set beside him without wondering where Misao was.

At the Aoiya, he dropped off his try in the kitchens. The men cooking nodded in his direction but no one said anything directly to him. No one commented on his presence or his departure until he was safely out of earshot. He kept on, passing out the narrow corridor into the back room expecting she might possibly be there. Unless she was out for Okon still?

But no.

He found her in Okina's sitting room. She sat, elbows propped up on the low table, brows drawn down in displeasure and a thin line across her lips. She was staring into a bunch of flowers thoughtfully.

Misao was unhappy.

He stepped inside the room, his movement catching her eye. The widening of her eyes and the drop of her jaw belayed her shock at seeing him.

"Aoshi-sama!" she declared. "What are you doing here this time of day?"

It was almost an accusatory tone, he noted. Was he now not allowed inside during business hours?

"I didn't want to stay in the temple today," he replied, waiting for her reaction.

"Oh."

That hadn't been expected. What did that mean?

"Um..." She shifted. "Huh."

She looked away.

Had he ever caught Misao in a moment of speechlessness? Was she ill? Had he interrupted something private? What was wrong with her? This was beyond unusual. Perhaps he ought to apologize to her.

"Misao!" Omasu swept in the door right past Aoshi waving a slip of paper. "Are you ready to go? We finally have the list for the party ready. Don't forget to buy your kimono while you're there, you _promised_ me last night!" She scolded as though she expected Misao to protest.

"I know, I wouldn't have promised if I planned to change my mind," Misao pouted, dragging herself to her feet. "We can play dress up but there's no way you're doing that ugly thing to my hair that you do to yours."

Omasu's initial answering smile wavered for a moment. "I'm glad. No fuss for once, that has to be good, right?" she glanced at Aoshi who seemed disinclined to comment.

Misao glanced at her quizzically, but the older woman merely turned and walked back out.

"Would you like to go to town, Aoshi-sama?" she asked, approaching him with the list clutched in her hand. Stopping beside him he was reminded, once again, how tiny she was.

He paused, meeting her eyes. What was going on with her? She seemed so... out of sorts.

She frowned. "Well, you don't have to go." Her frown vanished as a laugh emerged. "Just thought I'd ask before I rudely walked out on you, I certainly don't mind going alone. I like Kyoto town, I think it's very refreshing."

She turned, intending to go, when he stepped up beside her, accompanying her out. He thought he might've seen her shoulders tense, but he couldn't be certain.

* * *

They walked toward town in silence. Aoshi observed Misao carefully. There was something different about her today. What was it? Was he imagining things? She certainly seemed quieter.

No doubt about it, she _was _quieter.

Misao had turned into the kind of young woman who filled every moment of silence with chatter. Or, she had been. Now he was concerned there was something wrong as she wasn't given to having spells of silence. Or, he didn't think so.

"They're having a party?" the words had practically been dragged out of him. If she wasn't going to tell him, he would have to ask.

She nodded readily, her eyes steadily ahead of her. "Jiya's idea to draw customers. They were worried about not having enough servers so I promised I would help out, wear the kimono, smile, and all the pleasantness that goes with customer interaction. I've wanted to buy one lately anyway they had some very pretty patterns last week. Even though it does _look _uncomfortable, I've decided it probably isn't that bad."

She smiled, looking ahead.

He followed her along to each stand where she chattered amicably with all the merchants. In between, she also spoke to him though; he was certain, less than her normal amount. She was explaining to the kimono dealer that she didn't want to sew her own and that her two cousins at home were pestering her about dressing like a lady. It was more than she'd bothered telling _him _about it, that's for sure. They spent the next fifteen minutes discussing the appropriate pattern for the season and the occasion. And in the end, she didn't buy anything from him, so they kept looking.

* * *

Normally, Omasu and Okon didn't quibble about her clothing, they had told her she was old enough to make her own decisions about it. That had surprised her quite a bit. They had also told her that they hoped she would wear something "age appropriate" to the party tonight, but they needn't have bothered with the guilt-trip. Misao had already decided to wear a kimono all on her own. It was the hallmark of a lady and she was trying to be a lady. Or, at least be a little more mature.

She picked up Okon's supplies, handing them absently off to Aoshi-sama to carry. He didn't seem to mind. He didn't complain so as far as she was concerned, he might as well be useful and carry her stuff.

As they were headed back, she'd almost forgotten about the kimono, having caught a woman at the produce stand checking out Aoshi. It had been discrete and she had hid her face daintily behind a fan. The kimono had been prettier than the one she'd bought she noticed and that she was also older than her. Then she started wondering if the woman was pretty enough for Aoshi-sama and picking up her own kimono was suddenly the last thing on her mind. What kind of woman did he like anyway?

She'd been a smidgen away from elbowing him and discreetly motioning toward her and making some comment about it, but thought she'd look funny doing it. There was nothing gradual or unsuspicious about a move like that. She might as well smack him with a shovel. That or she was picking up Jiya's bad habits and that was the last thing she wanted, so she'd let it go, but it hadn't left her mind yet.

"Your kimono," Aoshi reminded her.

She blinked and stopped. "Oh... Right, almost forgot, Omasu said there's a kimono shop somewhere close to here, but she said it was small." She peered around, searching for the merchant. They'd promised her securing a new kimono would be easy and so far it had been.

"There," Aoshi stated, but Misao, being much shorter, could not spot the vendor over the crowds. There was a tiny black and white sign in front.

He said nothing more, wordlessly leading her through the crowd toward the store. Misao ducked past the noren curtains painted with spring flowers. Inside, a wash of color was everywhere and she wanted to groan. So many patterns… so many colors… too many.

"Can I help you, sir?"

"She needs a kimono," he stated plainly.

Misao stepped out from behind him, smiling lightly.

The woman nodded and led her further inside. Her quick lesson from the other vendor quickly evolved into something else. Misao listened and seemed to be intent upon choosing something appropriate. They two women drifted from table to table and the two men mostly watched in silence.

Just as she was about give up, close her eyes and point to something, she spotted a triangle of cloth in the corner. She reached for it, staring at the rich purple. Why did she like purple so much?

Behind her, the men were still standing in silence. They hadn't said a word to one another, she thought, but Aoshi-sama had never been a conversationalist. "She is a very pretty girl."

"Aa."

Misao rolled her eyes with her back safely turned to Aoshi-sama. What did she really expect him to say? That he thought she was an ugly monkey or something?

Misao glanced back to see a small smile on the man's lips and Aoshi staring at him without comment.

Misao turned back to the woman. "Do you have anything in this color?"

The woman looked down at the obi in question and stared a moment, her brow coming down in contemplation. The pattern was not suitable as it was winter themed. Omasu would kill her.

"I believe so, let me look," she replied. Behind her towered a tansu chest and the woman began to search through it vigorously. "Ah! This?"

She pulled out a folded garment allowing Misao to examine the print carefully, slowly unfolding it to show the scene.

Misao's eyes lit as she stared at the cloth. Black and purple and white, it was gorgeous. Normally she didn't like black, as it was ultra formal but was really lovely. It also didn't look like it would get her yelled at. If she had to dress up, she might as well wear something that made her feel halfway pretty, right?

"What do you think, Aoshi-sama? Pretty, huh?"

She glanced back to see him nod slightly and she barely refrained from rolling her eyes again. Well, that was enthusiasm, she thought. She didn't need his approval anyway.

"I'll take it."

"It will look lovely on you. Come, let me help you with your accessories..."

She took Misao by the elbow, the kimono in the other hand leading her to the other side of the shop.

Aoshi merely watched.

When they were ready to go, she toted along beside him back to the Aoiya, her mind preoccupied again, her arms full of packages.

The incident at the produce stand, with the woman, wouldn't be an isolated event. It would happen again and again until someone caught his eye.

Not only that, it brought her face to face with a fact she'd been completely overlooking. During Aoshi's travel he'd probably been ogled by hordes of women. He probably had sex with some of them, too.

She almost hung her head in disappointment, but she knew he was watching her. He'd been watching her the whole time. She could practically feel it.

Damn, why had she invited him along?

* * *

Beta read by Kettering, edited by Menolly.


	2. II of VIII

Daughter Figure

Part 2 of 8

Revised June 18, 2011 -1338

* * *

Misao stepped into the temple room, precariously balancing the tea tray in her hands. She'd told herself she wasn't bringing him tea anymore, what happened to that vow, she thought bitterly. Here she was again, slave to habit. Or slave, to love, one of the two.

But it wouldn't work, she'd realized, abandoning his tea serving. It had to be gradual, maybe miss a day or two. He would only worry about her if she suddenly started ignoring him. She couldn't deviate from her normal routine, so she'd have to change subtly, although she'd never been good at that. That's part of the reason it would be so hard.

Aoshi-sama was by the window. To her amazement, he was wearing only a pair of black pants covering those long, lean legs. Oh, she thought... Even battle scarred, he was beautiful. His chest and lean, toned arms bearing all his battle scars open to view.

She fought the blush, quickly turning her mind to other things. Idiot man. What was he doing sitting around half naked, tempting her?

_'Father figure, father figure, don't forget. Just friends!_' she chanted, direly hoping she could pull this off. She could only admire him from afar. Admiring him up close, well that was too much temptation.

Once he saw her, to her disappointment and relief, he pulled on a shirt, covering his scar-covered chest as he turned away from her. She told herself it would make life easier, at least he was being accommodating. Where was his yukata today?

She sat down the tray on a low table, determination flowing through her veins. "Are you ashamed of your scars, Aoshi-sama?" She wasn't sure why she asked or why she thought he might answer. Most days he didn't really say anything. She'd gotten tired of his silences and gone for conversation that didn't require him to actually say anything back.

He came, sitting down in his usual place, crossing his legs. He reached for the small ceramic cup, raising it to his lips. She figured an answer was not forthcoming.

"I'm not ashamed of mine, although it's probably much worse for me to have them, being a girl and all. Omasu says scars are ugly on women but for a guy it's like a** battle scar**, a source of pride. I haven't had the opportunity to be ashamed of my scars."

He didn't even look up from his tea; his eyes were lowered, before they fluttered closed.

"Ah, sorry. Was that weird? It's just what came to mind when I saw you there."

She stood, walking to the window where he'd been looking out. What did he see out this window? Was there a breath taking view from this window she'd never seen before? Or did he just stare out this window, lost in his thoughts like she'd been lately? Trying to think Aoshi-sama's thoughts after him was impossible; she wondered why she ever tried.

"What kind of scars?"

His voice was unexpected, not even to mention the question. Oh good heavens above, he was asking about her _body_? This was not the kind of direction their relationship was supposed to be moving in. Why did things never go according to plan?

"Like... where did I get them? Or, where do I have them, or what do they look like? What does that mean?" she asked, confused, turning her back to the window to lean against it. As far as she could tell there was nothing spectacular out there anyway.

"Where did you get them?" He clarified, not so much as shifting from his still position.

"Oh. Well, the normal places I guess. I got one from my shoulder I was. It was dark and I got distracted. Then I got another one the inside of my thigh from some nutcase I met in Tokyo. I've got lots of nicks down my arms and on my hands. Then there's the gash across my side from when the Juppon Gatana guys attacked the Aoiya."

He turned toward her, his eyes tracing down her figure slowly. She felt her reasoning slipping. _Don't look at me that way_, she silently pleaded.

"When?"

She turned away, unable to bear his gaze, so she looked back out his window. Toward his unremarkable view hoping it would distract her.

"I got most of them while traveling around. My big mouth has gotten me into lots of trouble."

"The man from Tokyo?"

_The who who'd tried to get a little too friendly_, she thought, a slick feeling sliding down her spine. She never should've said where she had it. That had given too much away and he was too smart to let it go.

She waved it off. "That happened a long time ago."

She didn't want him to see how much hurt she still carried over that incident. The ninja world she grew up in was male dominated to be certain. But she had never known the sheer terror of a man's superior strength before. Misao had been teased often about looking like a little girl but there had been no mistake in the eyes of her attacker that day.

She closed her eyes, blinking away the memory. Yeah, that was enough time at the temple for her today. She was going back to the Aoiya, someone there was sure to distract her from the dark shadows in her memory. It was time to sweep them back to the corners where they belonged.

"I'll catch you later."

He didn't seem surprised about her quick departure, he didn't say anything if he was. She didn't really want to know what he was thinking anyway.

In fact, she was beginning to think that maybe Aoshi-sama and she lived in two totally different worlds. She had, in the last two days, undergone a revolution. She was torturing herself, trying to turn herself into someone she could never truly be again. She was trying to morph her love for Aoshi-sama back into that childish infatuation she'd had so long, and destroying herself in the process.

Misao was a woman, no matter the teasing, and she could never return to being the little girl that idolized a man. When a woman idolized a man… well… that was never going to happen. What was going to happen was… she didn't know that part yet.

* * *

She was behaving somewhat unusually. He couldn't imagine exactly what seemed to have her so on edge. One moment she seemed distracted, the next she blushed, and the next over she was glaring at something on the horizon.

He did not pretend to understand what was going on in her head. She didn't seem to want anyone to know anything was wrong with her at all the way she seemed to be struggling to cover it up but she was behaving erratically _even_ for her. He didn't doubt he was somehow involved with Misao's unhappy expressions these days, but he hadn't done anything to _cause_ it. He was behaving as he normally did, she was not.

It seemed a simple matter. He could ask her, but she would deny it. He could ask the others but no one seemed to be reacting any differently toward Misao, nor she to them. Was her problem with him alone?

The mention of her scars surprised him. While before she had gone on with jokes and thoughts of a generally happy nature, now her tone turned dark. The happy girl she was, or had been pretending to be, seemed to have melted quite suddenly into the modern version of Misao who held few traces of her childhood personality or she hadn't over the past two days. Something was certainly troubling her.

He did expect Misao bore some scars from her battles, but he had not consciously thought about marks on her body. Misao did not often enter his thoughts in such a fashion. He simply did not think of Misao _bodily_.

Misao's reactions to him, in their many forms, had often taken a turn away from the familial relationship they'd once had, but those seemed to have vanished. Abruptly. They seemed, if anything, to be turning back toward that familial relationship once more. In town, she had barely said a word to him; she hadn't reached out to cling to his arm. She hadn't hugged him in almost three days… she hadn't touched him at all and Misao was a tactile person.

He was not upset if Misao was gradually maturing into someone less like what she had been, everyone grew up. Such was a natural progression, but it did not appear her change was natural at all. Her lights had not been on late, but he suspected that she was sleeping very little. Her light step was dragging and her smile flagged.

And then there was speaking with her. Once she'd promised to make him smile and now… had she given up on that goal? Now she spoke of things on a much deeper level. She'd spoken the previous afternoon on the changing of the season and how it often caused her to feel depressed when winter came. The day before that she'd talked of how she thought Okina felt old and unhappy and by pursuing young and pretty girls in an attempt to make him feel younger. She was also upset because she was certain that he would never marry.

He couldn't have been more surprised by her sudden change of attitude had she walked in and slapped him with a cold fish.

So, what was it? What did she want to do by switching objectives so suddenly? Why was she changing into something else? Or, if she were not changing, why was she suddenly trying to relate to him on a level different than one they'd had before?

Was this merely another attempt to gain his attention? Misao had gone through plenty of little phases, but nothing quite so severe. Nothing thus far had caused such a great physical change upon her person or personality.

Had someone said something that had hurt her?

He stood up. No answers would be found here.

* * *

He had not intended to violate her privacy. He had not intended to suddenly partake in analysis of her private thoughts without her permission, but what was he supposed to do when they were right in front of his face?

He blinked. The paper was nailed up onto the back wall, a long paper hanging by itself. The kanji was very clear on the page; the message undeniable.

_"Outside the windows' view, we weep."_

Outside the windows' view, we weep?

He heard her footsteps as she came up the hall about to catch him blatantly tresspassing but he made no attempt to avoid her. He remained where he was, inside her room, staring at her wall. Staring at the line of text on the cloud white paper.

He heard her come up behind him, the slide of the door as the formerly open doorway, was closed.

"You're in my room, Aoshi-sama," she chirped, stating the blatantly obvious.

Of course he was in her room. He had been looking for her.

Had been.

He was no longer sure he wanted to face her just yet. No longer sure of the answers he was seeking or the questions he wanted to ask.

"That's interesting, what is that?" he pointed to the paper on the wall.

"My attempt at being lyrical. The others were really lousy so I tossed them, but that sounded beautiful and sad, so I kept it. Omasu told me everyone has a poetry phase, apparently mine's worn off."

Somehow her explanation seemed unsuitable, but he could not think Misao that quick a thinker to come up with such a cover story. He could not picture her sitting, writing lyrical verses at all. There had to be truth somewhere in that statement, just as he sensed there was something untrue in the same words.

"Was there something you wanted? I just left you at the Temple not so long ago. You're back early, aren't you?"

"I've decided to come back for the day."

"Oh?"

He turned, but she wasn't looking at him. Just as well, he thought, as his eyes darted over her. She was wearing a yukata, one that looked almost identical to the one he was wearing except hers was... clinging. She'd, apparently, just come from the bath. Her hair was wet and stuck to her cheek on one side and her yukata was doing the same at her waist and across her chest. He glanced away.

At least it wasn't transparent.

"You should hang out around the Aoiya a little more, bond with everyone. When you come around everyone gets all shifty and uneasy and that's stupid. Everyone needs to lighten up a little."

He couldn't be wrong about her, could he?

"Is something troubling you, Misao?"

She stopped folding the blanket she'd picked up from the corner by the futon cabinet. She tucked it away absently and slid the door of the cabinet closed.

"A little bit."

So, she was uneasy about something. Good first step. And she had been honest in confessing it.

"What is it?"

To say he expected a denial with the most truthful. That just seemed too easy. Misao was like that, very honest and straightforward. He'd always liked that about her, it made interacting with her easy. She looked up, a small smile on her little lips.

"There's no point in telling you about it since neither of us can change it."

"If … how can something not be changed? It is obviously bothering you."

"There's no need to worry. I'll work it out and everything will be fine. Although telling you to 'not worry' won't work, it never does. You'll worry anyway, needlessly, and so it's all been just a big waste of time. Right?"

He stared at her.

What?

Her discomfort seemed to have vanished. It was something he'd just become aware of since his return to the Aoiya some time ago. After the Battousai-, er, Himura, had brought him back here to her. To Misao.

Her newfound discomfort and tendency to blush in his presence was cute. He quite liked watching her reactions. She had been doing noticeably less of it lately. Was she trying to stop that? Was she trying to tone down what came naturally to her? What that what was different?

"And if I should refuse?"

Her hesitation was clear, as was her expression of confusion. Was she trying to think ahead of him and hadn't prepared for such a response? What was she doing?

"Refuse what? I'm not giving you a choice about something," she sputtered.

"If I should refuse to let the matter go?"

She turned back, now she too was frowning. "It would make me unhappy, Aoshi-sama."

Her voice had almost a childish singsong quality to it.

She moved toward the cabinet. "Um... I should really be getting downstairs since they expect me in the kitchen soon."

He just stared.

"I have to get dressed," she clarified, making a motion to herself. "Which I'll do myself, so if you'll... you know... leave..."

He felt the corner of his mouth perk up in response.

"Leave?"

She nodded. "That was the idea."

She was starting to look a little annoyed, he thought. He wondered how long he could exasperate her and make her eyebrow start to twitch.

Although he loved to tease her when he was feeling in the mood, her attire was really causing his thoughts to turn another direction. He remembered all too clearly her mentioning of scars and the locations thereof on her body. She'd given him a verbal map and he realized, at that moment, he wanted to follow it. He watched her turn away from him, hoping he'd take the hint she'd spelled out for him, and leave.

He, however, had other ideas and approached. It was one thing to hover near her doorway and question her. It was quite another to enter her private domain with thoughts that were anything but familial.

"Misao..." he drawled, his voice low.

He had never practiced seducing women, but it all seemed to come so naturally. He'd learned that lesson young.

He watched her tense. "Yes, Aoshi-sama?"

She was still determined...

"How did a man in Tokyo cut the _inside _of your thigh?"

"Um..." She turned a glance his direction before hurriedly looking away. "Well... that was... um..."

"To do so, " he continued smoothly. "Your legs would have to have been ... apart..."

She brought a hand to her face, covering her mouth in a move that looked so unbelievably innocent he had force himself to stop lest he reach out and touch her.

"Well, yes, I guess that's right," she agreed, kneeling down to pick something out of a chest. She was still gathering clothes.

"So, what was this man from Tokyo doing between your legs?"

She whirled around looking torn between humiliation and fury. "Don't say it like that and I don't want to talk about this with you so get out of my room!"

"It is true, is it not?"

"No!" she snapped. "You say it like I was meeting my lover or something, that's not what happened."

"Were you looking for me?"

He'd known, discovered later, she'd spent all her free time searching for him. To think she'd been mauled by some city thug while searching for him. He reached for her, snagging her arm as she tried to turn out of the gentle hand he placed on her shoulder. He pulled her to him, crushing her little frame against his chest.

"You're not the only one who's done bad things, Aoshi-sama. That man from Tokyo... He's dead." Her words were muffled, but clear enough to be heard as she spoke.

His eyes widened. Had she...? Had she killed him?

"I just... I didn't mean to... I panicked... I was pressed up against the wall, he had my hands above my head...when he moved to ... fiddle... with his clothes I got one of my hands free and... I didn't even stab him I just... kind of a reflex thing... the kunai I keep at the back of ... I just grabbed it and... he... he... gurgled and...

"It went right through his throat... he was gasping and... I just stood there watching him try to breathe, holding what was left of my clothes... I could... still feel his fingers inside me... and he just died."

It wasn't bad enough the bastard had hurt her; he'd actually touched her? Not just touched, but also _invaded_ her? He was lucky it had been Misao who killed him; it was much less painful than what he, himself, would have done had he gone to track the man down.

"I'm sorry, Aoshi-sama."

"You have every right to defend yourself."

She nodded against his chest.

"You didn't mean to kill him."

"I know I didn't ... but I didn't try to help him either. I just... watched. After he stopped moving, I panicked all over again. I couldn't leave my kunai there... I yanked it out and..."

He pulled her closer. Poor girl. How long had she kept this bad memory locked away afraid to corrupt everyone's perfect image of her?

He gently pressed a kiss to the top of her head.

Again, she apologized to him.

"Do not say such," he replied. "I am not sorry he is dead."

She raised unhappy, tearful eyes. "But-"

"I would kill him for touching you."

She brought a hand up to her face, wiping away her tears, a smile on her lips. "I'm glad but... I don't want you to kill anyone for me, Aoshi-sama, if it can be avoided."

She'd said so, but he would do it anyway if the time came. He stepped away to let her dress on her own, tilting her chin up to him again.

"If it bothers you, come find me."

She'd confided in him what she would tell no one else. He was relieved when her eyes lit with warmth. She leapt at him, her arms curling around his waist.

"Thank you, Aoshi-sama."

She held him a moment and pulled away, making a motion with her hands. "Now off with you, I have to get dressed!"

He nodded and quietly left.

* * *

AN: This story was once following a path much like "Decay" by Hikaru. I'm not sure if it does or how much since I have gutted chapter 7 yet again. I will finish it. Determination is the key.


	3. III of VIII

Daughter Figure

3 of 8

Revised June 18, 2011 - 1338

* * *

Night had fallen heavily over the Aoiya as he sat by the window staring outside. What other things had happened to Misao while she traveled around the countryside alone? What other things had she done? What other things had she _learned_?

Standing suddenly, his yukata shifted over his chest. It was rather warm, he felt like shedding the garment. He slid his door open; the hall was predictably empty for this time of night. He followed path toward her room, entering without knocking or even listening to see if she was awake.

Someone had touched Misao.

Touched her.

_Stained _her.

His perfect, pure little angel was ... corrupted. Corrupted by the seedy, soiled hands of some Tokyo thug. So certain, he had been, of her innocence, her purity… of all worldly things.

"You're in my room, Aoshi-sama."

His lips quirked up just slightly.

"You're awake?" he asked, his voice sounding loud in the still, small room.

"Who can sleep with you bringing up bad memories?"

She was a different person. She'd transformed into something else right in front of him. In less than a week, his little ward had become ... something else. Something bright, something faded something strong, something weak - something bloodstained and impure, but still something innocent.

His little girl... When had she become a woman and he'd missed it?

He saw her as she sat up in her futon, the shoulder of her yukata tilting dangerously, she didn't seem to care. Maybe she thought the dark would show him nothing, maybe she wanted him to see her. Maybe it was neither.

She sat up straighter and righted her clothes.

"Something bothering you, Aoshi-sama?"

He approached, kneeling at the edge of her futon. _Outside the windows' view, we weep. _It wasn't some meaningless scrawl on the wall. How many nights had she cried? How many nights had soundless sobs stained her linens? How many times had he caused her such tears? Tears she had to hide? How many tears had the bastard from Tokyo wrought from her? How many, he wondered.

He reached out, touching a bare hand to her temple. Her skin was warm and soft against his fingers. Softness that belonged to a woman, not that of a girl.

He touched her guiltlessly. Not bound by his desire to keep her untainted. Not worried over corrupting her. Not concerned with soiling her perfect nature, dimming her natural light with his past and his deeds. For she was now no longer completely innocent. Stained, he thought, leaning toward her.

Perfectly, beautifully stained.

He dropped his hand beneath her chin, tilting her head up toward him, pressing his lips to hers.

Corruption in the darkness.

The soft press of lips together in the dark.

They drew apart, just slightly, their breath fanning one another's lips. He couldn't see her eyes like this. In this darkness, but he didn't need to.

This felt... wrong. Illicit. Sinful. Touching Misao this way. Was it because she hadn't responded the way he'd thought she might? Because she had been hesitant and ill responsive against the brushing of his lips? Because of her stillness?

He could feel her surprise by the tenseness of her frame even though they were not touching. But he could also feel her awareness of him. A purely feminine emotion - her simple, sensual response to him. Her body's awareness of his. So simple, so natural.

So wrong.

She wasn't doing anything. He couldn't read her in the dark.

* * *

Misao stilled, listening to the silence. There he was. In front of her, on his knees, his head bent down to hers. Amazing, she thought, breathlessly.

So amazing he was. Everything and anything about him.

She had him. He was there. Just the slightest touch and she felt like he would tumble, letting his passion boil over onto her, into her. She wasn't sure it was reality, but it's what she felt at that particular moment. Pure, heady power.

But why? Why was he doing this? Not four days ago he'd been despondent as ever at the Temple, shutting out the world for the most part. What caused this?

She hadn't done anything _that_ drastic. At least, she couldn't remember doing anything drastic.

She reached up, pressing her hand beneath his chin as he done to her, but just touching her fingertips against his skin.

"Aoshi-sama? What is in your head?"

His response was silence. Maybe he didn't know how to answer?

"What brought you to my room?" she clarified.

"I wanted to check on you."

"Check on me?" She repeated- a curious note to her voice. "I'm all right. I have never fallen apart before, there's no reason for me to now."

She leaned close, her cheek coming to rest beside his. He drew a hand up, pressing it against the small of her back gently.

"I don't know what's in your head, Aoshi-sama, but I feel like you're disarray... So go to sleep, Aoshi-sama. I don't ever want to be something you regret."

She heard the hiss of breath, the short, gasp of surprise. Something he couldn't hide from her in the dark stillness.

"Misao..."

Did he want to change her mind?

Oh, how she wanted to let him…

"You can't avoid me, Aoshi-sama, I won't let you. Don't make me into something you can't handle. So go to sleep, Aoshi-sama, and we can talk tomorrow if you want. No mistakes in the dark..."

He momentarily held her tighter, but ultimately released her, drawing his warmth away. The warmth of his body she craved so badly.

Misao took a deep shuddering breath as he left her. Was this what it was to be grown-up? To think like this? She couldn't just ignore the consequences this time. This was Aoshi-sama.

He was something too complex to let something like this just happen. It wouldn't end the way she wanted. It wouldn't be romantic and perfect and make her blissfully happy. Having Aoshi home had made her realize that. He was her happiness, but he couldn't be _all _of it. As much as she loved him, he complicated things unnecessarily.

She didn't know what had brought him here, but she was certain it wasn't clearly thought out. If she could imagine him being guilt-ridden and ashamed that he'd been intimate with her, what he, himself do?

She was beginning to think she understood Aoshi-sama all too well. She settled back down in her blankets, but sleep didn't visit for a long time afterwards.

* * *

Her words wouldn't leave him. Come dawn he found himself awakened from a dreamless trance by the sound of a door being slammed shut below floors. He sat up groggily, rubbing eyes that felt dry and itchy.

He dressed without preamble and stepped out. He stared at her door in the daylight. He stood, and stared, and thought. Was it different? The others were up. He could now hear them buzzing around downstairs. He pushed himself forward. Misao was up late. She probably still slumbered in there.

Sleeping. Misao had slept. Had she been troubled as he had? Was she unaffected by him? He didn't know.

He followed the path downstairs, walking toward the sitting room. The doors were open, the set in the hall and another set open to outside. Okina was staring beyond the open doors, his gaze directed outside.

"Okina."

"Hmm?" He turned lazily, glancing at him. "Good morning, Aoshi. Everything all right?"

Misao had forgiven him for the fight with Okina. She'd forgiven him for the pain he'd caused her, and for the pain he'd caused Okina. Okina appeared to have done the same. But he'd never apologized to the old man. He'd never expressed any regret for his actions.

He stepped over the threshold of the room. "I wish to apologize to you. My actions, they were unforgivable."

Okina chuckled lightly, a smile lighting his face. Aoshi was glad, suddenly; he'd left Misao with this man. He nodded approvingly. "When Misao took over as the Okashira in your place, going against my wishes, I thought it was merely because she was afraid of change. Afraid of losing the Oniwabanshuu - like losing a childhood home. Misao and I have shared many memories of you... After I was injured, we again came to that point but that wasn't until after the Juppon Gatana assaulted the Aoiya. It all came back down to her and I and our memories of you. She explained it then and I understood what I had missed before and accepted it.

"This is our family and that was what she couldn't bear to lose. You are like a son to me, Aoshi. A sentiment I had always tried to hold some degree apart from you because of your position as Okashira. But seeing as you are family, you needn't worry, you will always be forgiven and accepted here."

The words lightened his burden.

"The others are all right. Whatever makes Misao happy pleases them."

Aoshi stepped in further, seating himself across from Okina.

"Will you tell of me of Misao? Of the person she is now?"

Okina's eyes widened slightly, but a smile followed and he nodded slightly.

* * *

Misao woke and growled, staring at the ceiling. Aoshi was an idiot. How dare he interrupt her sleep like that?

She sat up and pulled on her house clothes irritably. She stomped down the hall and then stomped down the stairs and then stomped toward the kitchen.

"Misaooooo..."

She cringed. When Okina called her in a voice like that it was never something good.

"Yes?" She asked, sticking her head in the door.

"You're getting up late, today, aren't you?"

"I had a crappy night, what do you want?" She snapped.

"Why don't you take Aoshi some tea?"

She crossed her arms. "I don't feel like it; let him get his own damn tea. I haven't even eaten yet. How am I supposed to make pleasant nothing conversation with an empty stomach?"

"Ah, even better. Go take him some lunch too. He's decided to spend the day in the old training field. You know the one."

Misao drew her brows down. This was beyond suspicious. "Fine."

She _knew_ it was suspicious when she found Omasu shoving a package into her arms the moment she entered the kitchen.

"What is going on around here?"

She shrugged. "Okina told us to give it to you and usher you toward where you were meeting Aoshi."

Misao sighed and headed for the door. Might as well find out what was going on herself, no one else was going to tell her anything. Whether they knew or not.

The walk was long and gave her much more thinking time than she wanted. She had hoped to bury herself in chores to keep from analyzing this whole situation, so much for her plans. She couldn't mistake him at all when she finally came across the field. He was a dark blotch in the wide, green wilderness. She trudged through the long grass toward him.

"Aoshi-sama!"

He turned as she called and then stood as she approached.

"Jiya told me to bring you food, but I brought food for me too since he practically kicked me out the door. But I'm not eating with you here, this is spider-ambush country."

She indicated the tall grass around her knees, fidgeting.

"Oh, icky! How long did you _sit _out here? You _know _how many bugs could be out here, don't you? Ewww..."

"Are you afraid of insects?"

"Afraid, of course not. But icky is icky! I **refuse **to eat with icky things."

He might have been slightly grinning at that, she didn't allow herself to hope.

"Aa."

He turned away and she followed him, not knowing where he was going, just assuming he had a destination in mind.

"Anyway, did you want something? There's no such thing as a coincidence or good will to this weird extent at the Aoiya. So either he's setting me up for something, or he's trying to get me out of the Aoiya for a while. Neither bode well for me. Jiya's practical jokes are _not _funny."

"I asked him to send you."

"Oh," she replied, listening to the hollow sound of her own voice. "What about? Is something wrong?"

He didn't answer, but she wasn't surprised. Although it annoyed her, she had eventually gotten used to his non-responsiveness. He led her to a patch of ground where the grass was low inside the cover of trees and sat.

She copied the motion, yawning, placing her package of food on the ground.

"What did you want to see me about?" She asked. "You didn't sleep well, did you?"

"No," he replied.

She smiled softly, reaching to untie the package ties. "Good, 'cause neither did I and that was your fault. It's only fair."

She missed the slight quirk of his lips in response to the comment. She unpacked the food and immediately set in; convinced she was starved half to death. He ate more slowly, more absorbed with watching her.

Misao served tea gulping down a cup before returning to her rice, devouring it.

"I wanted to know if the man in Tokyo had been the only incident."

"Incident of what?" she asked blankly, knowing full well what he was speaking of and hoping to avoid it.

"Have you ever been touched by a man without your consent other than that once?"

Well, at least he wasn't asking about men _with_ her consent, that she didn't want to answer. Not that she had many experiences to tell or not tell him about it, but it was embarrassing and they were talking about too many embarrassing things lately.

"Blehhhh." She made a sour face at him. "Now you're being nosy. I don't like talking about my travels. It's not like I asked if women had touched you without your consent, have I Aoshi-sama? How rude. "She turned her nose up at him, but he seemed hardly to mind.

"Yes," he answered shortly. "I've been touched by many women without my consent. But such is not comparable."

No, she thought, it really _wasn't_ comparable, was it? "Why are you so interested in this anyway? Let's talk about puppies; you never bought me any pets, Aoshi-sama."

He ignored the diversion. "Events like Tokyo change lives - they shape people differently. I asked Okina about you and your travels."

Her frown returned.

"So?" she countered. "What does he know about them? I went on all those trips by myself. He knows what I told him about them and nothing more."

While she didn't doubt Okina might have had her followed _had_ he had the manpower for it, but she knew he didn't. She'd gotten into too many close scuffles with more than minor injuries and with no dramatic rescues to be certain of it. The intensity of his stare was more than unnerving. It was so intense she almost felt like squirming.

She made up her mind and refused to say anything. It wasn't really something she wanted to talk about and he couldn't relate, so what was the point? When she'd determined to herself that she was going to be his "daughter figure" she hadn't planned on him suddenly paying so much attention to her.

Ugh.

Who would've thought attention from Aoshi was a _bad_ thing?

"Oh, now I remember!" she snapped and then looked over at her companion. "Aoshi-sama, do you think I'm too old to be dressed like this?"

He lifted his eyes to her accordingly and glanced over her figure. She squashed her nervous feelings as he gazed at her. His eyes sliding over her top and down her bare legs.

"Too old?" he questioned, as though not quite sure what she meant.

"Jiya says I'm too old to walk around showing so much of my legs and that it would give men the wrong impression about me. Not that I care, but... Well... Maybe I should wear something else? You've been around a lot. What do you think?"

His gaze dropped again to her shorts. It was almost as if she could feel him touching her as his eyes moved from her ankles to the tops of her thighs where they disappeared into the dark colored shorts.

"Aa."

She sighed.

"A reputation once damaged is not easily repaired. Best to stem off any possible problems, even if you don't foresee any."

"Yeah, I thought you might say something like that. I really don't want to go around wearing a kimono. I always feel... exposed."

His head lifted. "How so?"

"The obi ties at the back where I can't protect it. If you get the obi off there's nothing beneath it but a couple of slips – which who would feel good about that? Get more attention in a kimono anyway."

He stared at her a moment and she poured more tea trying to distract herself.

"Hakama."

"Huh?" she looked up, setting the tea aside.

"A hakama would protect your modesty and give you the free movement you require to protect yourself."

Her eyes widened. "What a good idea! Now why didn't _I_ think of that? Wait till I tell Omasu and Okon! They'll be so happy. A shopping trip!"

She felt more enthusiastic and bouncy than she expected she would for what had been a bad morning.

She was trying, desperately to maintain a happy facade she felt crumbling rapidly at the edges.

"Misao."

She looked up, her smile vanishing, a deep frown replacing it. Her eyebrows drew down.

"I could strangle you for being so dense," she declared, her voice declaring her underlying frustration.

The intensity of their gazes meeting was something unprecedented. He was no longer looking down and she no longer looking up. They didn't know one another any more. Maybe they never really had. Just the relationships of guardian and ward, a relationship built more on childhood love and adoration than anything else.

He was the first to break the stare, raising his teacup to his lips.

"Okina has expressed some worry over your future, have you thought of it?"

How convenient, she thought. He was playing the father figure so well all the sudden...

"That depends on what you mean by 'my future'," she replied tonelessly, finding no taste suddenly to her tea.

This topic always left her feeling sour.

Okina had said he wasn't going to push her into anything, but that she was young and should make a few decisions about her life. She hadn't managed to make herself agree.

"Most young women marry..." he suggested absently.

"I'm not most young woman, I'm a kick-ass ninja girl with a talent for armed robbery," she replied cheekily. "Let them do what they want."

"Misao." There it was again, that same admonishing tone.

She growled at him. Was he staring? He'd been looking at her intently from the moment she sat down. "**Why **are you looking at me like that?"

He tilted his head just slightly. "You look the same in the daylight," he commented.

For a moment, she was stunned silent.

Was he referring to her comment last night about the dark?

"No! You cannot say that I should be thinking about marriage and then practically in the same breath decide that you'd like to seduce me in the daylight! Ugh! You should come with an instruction booklet, you know that!"

"I'm not saying anything like that."

She growled at him. "That's exactly what you're saying."

He just stared at her for a moment. "Misao…"

"You should think about getting married… Oh, you don't want to get married? Then sleep with me."

He looked stunned she'd think such a thing, let alone say it out loud.

"I know you really aren't saying that because you're too complicated to make it that simple, but in a way, isn't that really what you mean?"

She stared down at the little cup in her hands seeing the reflections of clouds in her tea.

He didn't answer her and an uncomfortable silence fell between them. The important thing was he didn't deny it.

"Maybe the one of us that should be thinking about getting married is you…" she mentally beefed herself up, trying to call forth all her inner strength and proceed. It wasn't really working, but her voice was functioning just fine, unfortunately. "You've been single a long time now, Aoshi-sama. You could have a family by now. Haven't you considered that?"

She hoped she wasn't giving him the impression she meant herself in that equation, in this instance she meant someone else.

"Of anyone, I am the least suitable for marriage. I have nothing to offer a woman."

"What does a man usually offer a woman?" It was an honest question and he seemed to realize that an answered.

"A man should offer a woman a home, protection, financial support for the family that will grow out of that union."

She nodded. "You could do that, if you wanted to. You could do that _easily_. It would help you, to get out, to keep yourself busy. You wouldn't have so much time to dwell on things, you could move on with the rest of your life."

He shook his head, denying it out of hand, not even considering it. "I do not wish to be burdened with a family. I have too many other problems."

"You don't have _any_ problems, Aoshi-sama, you're living in a fantasy over there. You have no job, no responsibilities, nothing that makes you unsuitable as a husband."

"Misao…"

"Don't try to use that tone with me like I don't understand. You're the one who doesn't want to see what's really there. I've seen it for a long time."

His expression darkened.

"I'm not telling you you're a burden or that we don't want you, we_ do_. But we'd all like to see you happy and if settled and growing a family would make you happy that will work for us."

"_You_ don't want that."

For a moment, she was stunned silent. No, honestly, she didn't want it.

"I don't want a lot of things in life, including to get married to some lame merchant brat or something like that. I'll get married eventually, I decided that already, but now I don't want to. But you aren't getting any younger, Aoshi-sama."

She was lying. She hadn't decided to get married. Would he call her on it?

He stared at her and she tried not to flinch under the scrutiny. After a few moments, he stood.

"Let's go back."

And that, it seemed was that.

They didn't talk along the way. As they reached the back door of the Aoiya, he stepped in front of her, blocking her way.

He turned his back to the door and stood in front of her, the sun shining bright on his face.

"You haven't decided to get married, Misao. Do not lie so to my face."

With that, he turned and left her there outside the doorway

He never looked back.

* * *

End Chapter 3

Author's note: Trying to finish my June challenge, hello angst! Here's hoping for a happy ending... but that might take another 10 pages, ugh!Top of Form


	4. IV of VIII

Daughter Figure

4 of 8

Revised June 18, 2011

* * *

When the next morning came around, Misao was reluctant to take tea anywhere near the Temple where Aoshi meditated. She was loitering around the kitchen wasting time and trying not to think about it when Okina appeared.

"Good morning, my little flower."

How was he so cheerful? What was there to be cheerful about? Him and Aoshi-sama were practically scheming to get her married. Men were such pigs, she thought nastily. Bossy pigs.

"Hey," she gave him a half-hearted greeting.

"Are you working in the Aoiya today?" he seemed to be grinning at her as though he knew something she didn't.

"No, it's my day off."

"So, why are you loitering? Have you taken Aoshi-sama his tea today?"

"No," she admitted weakly. "I was getting to it."

This only seemed to make his grin grow. "Ah, then you have saved yourself a trip. Aoshi-sama is waiting for you in the Okashira's office."

Eh?

What?

She walked out of the kitchen, still clutching a dishcloth and toward the office that was technically _hers_ and a little pissed off about it too. Where did he get off -? She grit her teeth gother. She slid open the door without knocking.

"Come in, Misao."

He sounded so… commanding.

She obeyed and stepped into the office. He was seated at the desk, his back straight, his elbows propped up, and his hands folded together, his expression neutral. He looked like he was about to reprimand her and if he did…

"Aoshi-sama?" she asked, hesitantly.

"Will you relinquish leadership to me once more peacefully?" he asked. "Or must I challenge you for it?"

Her eyes widened. "You want to take over again? That's rather abrupt."

She trusted him implicitly, but she'd trusted him before and what had happened? Granted, she'd been a child then, but she wasn't any longer. This was her grandfather's organization, _her family_, not his. Did she want to try that again?

"Challenge me?" she questioned.

"If you will not relinquish the office and title of Okashira to me, there are two options. I will challenge you to a battle or you will accept me as your husband."

She stared at him like he'd suddenly turned purple and approached him quickly. Rashly, she reached out and touched his face. "Aoshi-sama, are you sick? Have you been drinking? Maye I should have Jiya call a doctor for you?"

He pulled her hand off his face. "Those are the options before you. The choice is yours."

She bit her lip. "That's too sudden to say. I think I need more time, one week, I'm not even sure we could have the proper doctors here in a week. "

Aoshi was still clutching her hand. "Misao."

"I'm not even sure what's proper when a person goes crazy."

"You _told_ me, I needed to get a job," he reminded her.

"I didn't tell you to take this one," she pointed out calmly. More calmly than she felt.

"I'm a killer –"

"No, you're not."

"I'm a _killer_, Misao. What were you thinking I would do? Sell tofu? Build houses?" Clutching her fingers tight he turned her hand palm up and kissed her inner wrist. "This is all I can do. I will give you one week to decide. If you do not get back to me before then, the decision will fall to Okina by default."

She glowered at him. "I absolutely refuse."

He didn't betray feeling anything and she almost squirmed under his gaze.

"I have no intentions of giving something back to you that you abandoned. You walked out on us. _You_ decided that the deaths of four members of this group were more important than the safety and well being of everyone else in it, me included. I loved them too, but what you did hurt. _It hurt us_. It's forgivable, Aoshi-sama, but it's not something I will simply _give_ you because you had it before. You threw it away; you threw _us_ away. We don't belong to you."

This time he seemed frozen under _her_ scrutiny.

"You want me to leave?" he asked tersely.

"No. You belong here." Her eyes were sad as she stared at him. "You're important to me, Aoshi-sama. But I'm not blind and I'm not stupid. I will accept your challenge, even if I have no chance of winning, I'll defend it, my home and my family."

He nodded.

They stared at one another like strangers: he a battle worn man and she a young determined woman.

"Then let us battle," his voice was crisp and distant.

They stared at one another across the space and met the gaze of their biggest obstacle: one another.

"One hour…"

She nodded.

Her chance of winning was so close to zero it was almost a negative. Maybe if lightning struck him… in the middle of the dojo. Of course, she didn't want lightning to strike him. She just wanted to defend the honor of the group; she couldn't give him a free pass, no matter how much she loved him.

She had one thing she could use against him.

One.

And it wasn't something she'd ever wanted to try out on Aoshi, of all people, it was dangerous. If her 1 in 1000 chance popped up and she actually hit him with it, she might hurt him. Really, seriously hurt him. Not chop him down like he had Okina, but it would still hurt.

She had learned the unusual technique from a weird lady dancer who traveled around. The woman had looked foreign and talked that way, but the technique was cool in action. She'd loved it immediately.

For all she knew, Aoshi might have already seen or been exposed to something similar in the past and therefore, it would fail, but she didn't know that. So she had to give it her best shot.

She'd only used it on an enemy once and it had worked beautifully. After the thug had tried to abuse her she'd not only clubbed him good but also then robbed _him._ She was very proudly wanted in a couple cities for small thievery, but only as a small, unidentified woman in a cloak. Who would connect that to her, anyway?

Arriving first at the dojo, she stretched to relieve her anxiety. He followed in after, wearing his proper uniform and holding his swords. She cringed at the thought of him cutting her. The others followed in after. She had the feeling, though, that was more Okina's doing than Aoshi's.

"Why are you here? Shouldn't you all be working?"

"We closed briefly for a family emergency," Shuro answered, as he and Kuro leaned against the back wall.

"Misao? Are you certain you wish to do this?" The old man didn't approach her. He stayed back by the sidelines along with the others. Omasu and Okon both had their hands folded, their fingers intertwined in front of their bodies nervously.

"I don't see I have any other choice," she answered.

Okina glanced helplessly at Aoshi. "Surely, marrying Aoshi wouldn't be so disgusting to you, Misao?"

Was he afraid she was going to get killed here or something? The rules of the Oniwabanshuu did not state that challengers to the Okashira title were to be killed in challenge matches, that was to be determined by the winner of the duel.

If Aoshi decided to cut off her head, which was extremely _unlikely_, she couldn't do anything about it. Nor did she have any such plans for _him_.

What was this worry over?

"Marry?" she shook her head sadly. "That would be too easy."

She watched as Aoshi calmly drew his kodachi before him, but kept the weapon sheathed. He stared at her impassively. He stared at an enemy and Misao prepared herself to be that enemy. She had one chance to make this work.

"Aoshi-sama… Whatever happens now, I'm sorry it had to come to this."

He nodded and bowed toward her and she did the same.

Misao stepped back from him and hunched herself into a defensive position. Into her hand she slid something long and thin and solid looking. The others peered at her, having never seen the strange item before.

Aoshi mirrored her stance but refused to unsheathe his weapons and instead held his kodachi at both ends as though to block a striking attack.

Misao smiled briefly and dashed. She turned her body, just slightly and her wrist flicked. With a flourish of sound, the soft grating of paper against paper, a fan unfolded. Into the air a white poof of smoke erupted, the air full of irritating white dust that only seemed to be spreading, quicker and wider, becoming denser toward the center.

Misao lost sight of Aoshi and moved backward, toward the edges of the cloud. She could feel it starting to settle on her skin and blinked her eyes to keep them wet.

Where was he?

Suddenly, spotting a blur of dark cloth she darted toward it, kunai in her hands.

She threw the fan aside and sighed disappointed as she heard the kunai strike the wall on the other side and quickly rolled to the floor and out of the direction in which she'd been standing. As she got to her feet, he appeared in front of her and she was slammed, hard, back against the dojo wall. He pressed her, bodily, against the wall.

It wouldn't work on Aoshi, the powder simply took too long to work, she needed much more time to dodge than she'd been able to get.

He had won.

"Accept me, Misao? Tell me you'll marry me…"

She grit her teeth stubbornly. "No." She heard a rustled slide, a sound she couldn't identify immediately. When she realized what it was, she felt her heart begin to pound in fear.

Was that his kodachi?

The sheathe dropped to the floor, one blade abandoned.

"This is an official challenge, Misao."

He brought the blade up into sight, but she determined to hold her ground.

"You cannot dictate the terms," he continued.

"Are you willing to kill me to become the Okashira again, Aoshi-sama?"

She was willing to bet he wasn't, and she was going all the way on that presumption.

"Misao!" Okina sounded panicked. "What are you doing?"

She didn't look away from the man towering in front of her. Maybe if she waited long enough her powder technique would work, after all, it wasn't a normal powder. Maybe he hadn't breathed enough of it in… He couldn't be immune that was impossible. She really shouldn't have used it indoors.

She stood tall as he brought the kodachi higher. She was out of her mind, she realized, being this close to him with him armed especially after using the powder.

Damn it! What had she been thinking doing that?

"Go ahead, Aoshi-sama."

Goading him, not a good idea.

"Butterflies!"

Eh?

Misao turned to peer past Aoshi and he seemed equally puzzled at the sudden, odd exclamation. Okina was now cupping his hands together, staring at something in front of him, as though he was trying to catch a butterfly.

Omasu had hands over her ears with her eyes clenched shut. Okon and Shiro were holding hands turning around and around in a small circle… Kuro was on the floor, blinking as he stared at the ceiling.

Uh, oh…

Had…

She felt a grin quirk her lips and she took a discreet glance at Aoshi. He was blinking. Her grin widened and she shifted, slamming her elbow into his abdomen. He grunted, his body crumbling forward slightly. He blinked again as though he couldn't quite focus. He shook his head slightly and then toppled backward. His body hit the floor hard and he didn't move.

Uh, oh!

* * *

AN: Oh, bad Misao!

I'm a busy gal these days. _Being Okashira_ is done, my august challenge: _This Year: Bless Us _is done. Editing, editing... See you around.


	5. V of VIII

**Daughter Figure**

**5 of 8**

**Revised June 18, 2011**

* * *

"Very unwise of you, Makimachi-san. Very unwise…" the old doctor chided as he shook his head. "Bad girl."

Misao frowned. "Yeah, I know, but it was the only shot I had, I know it was stupid. I won't do it again, that's for sure. Next time I will just lose honorably, no tricks."

He sighed again and stood up. "You wrack this old man's nerves."

She smiled brightly. "Yeah, but you wouldn't have half as much fun in your life without me."

He didn't comment on that, but his expression said it all. He was a good guy and she'd known him all her life with his working in the neighborhood.

"Will they be okay soon?" she asked, her voice colored by genuine worry.

"In an hour or so it will wear off. No more of that, Makimachi-san. Keep that powder tucked away, throw it away, in fact."

She nodded.

She wouldn't and he didn't really expect her to but he had to try anyway. The old doctor left a few minutes later and Misao was left to monitor the others by herself. She had posted a sign out front of the Aoiya.

_"Unexpected emergency – closed until tomorrow."_

Unexpected emergency indeed.

The powder in her fan was made of dried mushrooms, the inedible hallucinogenic kind. The actual technique didn't involve tossing the powder at the enemy quite like she had; she'd done it without the finesse it deserved.

It actually involved sprinkling the powder about the person while wearing a facemask and doing a hypnotic dance. It had looked really cool when she'd seen it done, but then she wasn't a dancer. She couldn't begin to dance around Aoshi-sama, he'd have suspected something so her best shot was full speed ahead.

She dropped her head onto the table.

Ugh.

She was an idiot sometimes.

* * *

"What were you thinking? Misao! That was extremely dangerous!"

She frowned. "Oh, come on. Did you really think I could defeat Aoshi-sama in traditional battle, it was the only shot I had!"

"You used mushroom dust on us!" Okina squawked.

"Actually, I used it on _Aoshi-sama_. By the way, does that count as a win?" she asked innocently. "Besides, you're okay."

She had fallen asleep and when she'd woke the others were all gone from around her.

"Aoshi and I had a talk about that."

She straightened where she sat, her back muscles tensing.

"Because you got Aoshi to the ground for a period longer than ten seconds as are the standard rules, you are technically the winner. But as your guardian, I have already worked out the terms of your victory with Aoshi."

What?

"What terms?"

The old man grinned at her sweetly. "It is my determination that it's in your best interest that you no longer continue as leader and instead take on the less stressful role of wife."

Wife?

"What?" she asked her expression stormy.

"Aoshi and I have agreed that the two of you should marry." Okina looked entirely too pleased with himself.

"No! That doesn't make any sense at all. You can't determine the terms of _my_ win."

He shook his head. "Your own negligence led to this, Misao. Your choice of tactics was ill thought out and immature. With actions such as that you can hardly expect me to allow you to dictate the terms of your win."

"My _immature _and _ill-thought out tactics_ were what got me the win the first place!" she snapped angrily. "Where is Aoshi-sama?"

"The Okashira's office," Okina replied simply.

His tone relayed his belief that she would go talk to Aoshi and all would be well. Misao hated the suggestion that she was so simple a creature and that she could be appeased so easily.

She all but jumped to her feet and stomped toward the Okashira's office. She threw open the door and stepped inside. Aoshi sat there quietly, reading, and he didn't look up as she entered.

"Aoshi-sama!"

"Misao?"

Even then, he didn't look up.

"What do you think you're doing? You can't talk to Jiya about _my_ win! _I_ beat you, not _him!_"

He continued to read until she slammed her fist on the desktop and then he raised his eyes to her.

"Don't ignore me!"

"You told me I needed to take on more responsibilities. I have decided to do that."

"You did it by taking over _mine!"_ she growled.

His expression tilted slightly, the thin line across his lips deepening. "You cannot be the Okashira, Misao. I never wanted such a future for you."

"You mean I can't be the Okashira because I'm a girl or because you don't think it's possible?" she snapped angrily, curling her fists against her hips.

"This is the ideal solution for both our situations," he answered, ignoring her remark. "You wanted me to take on more responsibilities and you also stated you intended to get married."

"No, no, no! Besides you said outside I hadn't really decided to get married."

He paused a moment, studying her. "To anyone _else_. You have decided not to get married to _anyone else."_

She scowled at him. "I never said that!"

He shook his head slightly. "Make it your last act as Okashira to see the wisdom of this move."

She snapped at him furiously, "It's not fair. You and him are trying to take over my life!"

"If you can produce a sensible reason for why this is the wrong path to take, I will hear you."

She was dismissed, just like that. He looked away from her and she knew he wasn't going to acknowledge her again. No one ignored a person quite like Aoshi-sama. Then she realized she was admiring him when she was supposed to be angry.

So she left.

* * *

She spent most of the day in her room and retired there after dinner. Precisely ten minutes after 9 o'clock the next morning, she emerged and made a direct line to the Okashira's office.

Assuming if he was going to be taking over, he would do it obsessively, the same way he did anything. She had spent the night in contemplation of his request: a sensible reason for why marriage to Aoshi was a bad idea.

She smiled.

She'd made a _list_ of sensible reasons! Let him try to strike down her entire list! She moved toward his office and knocked. She didn't even realize she was regarding it as 'his' office until he called for her to enter and then she was annoyed with that too. She did so with a scowl.

He watched her step inside, his expression passive.

"Good morning, Aoshi-sama."

He inclined his head in greeting.

"I have come with a so-called sensible reason for not getting married," she chirped happily.

He gave her a look as though he were analyzing her. He probably was.

"Okay, ready?"

She stood in front of his desk wearing her normal around-the-house outfit. Somehow the look he was giving her was making her feel a tad bit leery. She hadn't gotten her hakama yet.

"Go ahead," he instructed.

"Okay! Reason number 1: you're too tall."

He blinked and stared. "What?"

She nodded emphatically. "You're too tall, Aoshi-sama. I don't think it would work out." When his expression shifted slightly, she continued quickly. "I mean, just think about the … the… dimensions of it all."

"The dimensions?" he asked his voice completely deadpan.

"Of course. You're so tall, how will we make fit what goes where and…" Hearing herself say that out loud she just managed to kill the blush. "Okay, moving on then, reason number 2."

She looked at her list even though she knew already what was on it.

"You're too old."

His brows drew down, his voice was sharp. "Too old?"

"Right. You're um… almost 30, Aoshi-sama. You need a… a… " she cleared her throat. "Um… ex, wait, no… not that… um… a… no, not that either. Wait, wait, I'll think of something!"

She paused putting her hands on her hips as she tried to think of what he needed while she staunchly told herself it wasn't her or anyone like her. If he married someone like her, she'd kill him. Okay, maybe she wouldn't, but it would be on the list of un-forgivable offenses.

"Okay, fine, reason number 3…" she paused and fished for a reason. Suddenly everything on her list struck her as ridiculous and she didn't want to look stupid in front of him, of all people.

She sighed.

"The only important reason that matters is; it wouldn't work." She turned her gaze up and met his resolutely. "It really wouldn't. You can't have a successful marriage in a situation like this."

"What situation?"

"Where one is the adult and the other is the child." She almost bit her tongue on the remark, but she had an obligation to keep. Aoshi-sama was not going to be hers.

Never.

She was going to be his daughter figure, why wasn't he going along with it? Why _now _after she'd made up her mind? She found herself suddenly angry. How dare he do this to her? After everything she'd been through? After… After all the agony... All the time she'd waited and nothing happened and then he decides he suddenly want to change things and she's supposed to…

She dropped her head slightly.

She felt like gritting her teeth and pounding the table. How dare he just change everything with the sweep of his hand?

How dare he do this to her?

How dare he muck up all her efforts?

"You can't just snap your fingers and have everything your way!" She felt childish. She wanted to stomp her feet and whine but that would make her look even worse.

He simply stared at her evenly, his expression not so much as twitching.

"You have provided no sufficient reasoning. Our marriage will proceed the first of the following month."

She stomped her foot angrily. "Aoshi-sama!"

He shook his head briefly.

She bit back the growl fighting the deadly itch she had to throw her kunai at him. She didn't know what to do. Turning on her heel, she fled the room. If she was being handed her dream, why was she hating it so much?

* * *

"I'm sure she'll come around," Okina said, gazing down at the book. "She needs time to adjust. It's sudden."

"Aa."

Aoshi slipped his fingers around the cup and raised it to his lips. The steam was warm against his face.

"Misao doesn't take orders well," Okina continued. "Eventually, she'll see the wisdom of this decision."

"…"

"Very likely upon her wedding night, eh, Aoshi?"

"Enough," the younger man chided, tired of all the lecherous quips. He didn't want to think about Misao or the fact that she was angry at him or the fact they were even going to have a _wedding night_. It was just too much for now, one baby step at a time.

_Problem 1:_ Misao wasn't speaking to him.

He was not certain the exact way to go about fixing this. He knew he should give her some space, so he had.

_What had she done?_ Packed a bag and left the Aoiya when he took to the Temple for a short bout of meditation.

_Where had she gone?_ Her exact location was presently unknown. Somewhere between Aizu and Tokyo and Naru, but no one was quite sure.

_Had she run away? _ There was no definite answer to that. Aoshi was inclined to think not, she hadn't taken anything that would indicate she didn't intend to return.

_What had he done in response? _ Although their numbers had dwindled the Oniwabanshuu ninja clan did still exist and nearly all of their previous branches were still intact. He'd sent out an immediate bulletin, via pigeon carrier, to all branches of his re-instatement as Okashira, his betrothal to Misao, and the fact that his chosen fiancée was missing. There was a reward for her return to the Aoiya, effective immediately.

Everyone was surprised, both by her absence and his insistence to have her returned but it had only been several hours.

Aoshi, himself, was displeased. With his conversations with Misao ranging over the last month, he'd felt… refreshed. Something about her new out-bound maturity had struck him deep. He had been both proud and bothered by the fact her growing up was becoming more evident. It had also made him begin to feel old and out of touch. He knew he was out of touch and having Misao as his only lifeline to reality now seemed irresponsible and foolish. Through copious amounts of meditation, he'd come to understand and accept several important facets.

Chiefly among them was that Misao was no longer a little girl. Perhaps she hadn't been the little girl he'd watched over and played with since he left her. Maybe that girl had grown up early; no matter how many smiles she put on the outside his perfect, untouched image of her was now tarnished and he found himself infinitely glad for it. A virginal, unworldly Misao, no matter how much he told himself it was what he wanted, was intimidating to the point it kept him away from her. It bothered him because since his return to the Aoiya his observations and thoughts of her had been less paternal than they should've been.

His lack of familial feelings for her had also had to be accepted. It hadn't been until but a few days ago with her mention of her body to him and her scars had the thoughts really gotten out of control. He'd wondered certain things about her. How soft her skin was, what her weight would be like in his lap, to slid his hands places they shouldn't have gone…

He wondered.

Lately the thoughts had taken a different turn, more explicit, less innocent… less clothes. There were more important things, though.

Misao didn't want to marry anyone else and he wasn't sure he could bear to see it. But then, he didn't want to marry anyone either. Her saying to him she had decided to marry was obviously a lie.

That was another thing he'd come to grips with. He'd been more accepting of that than most other things about Misao. He understood she loved him. He didn't believe it was a childish infatuation on her part. It didn't seem possible to him for an infatuation to survive the betrayal he'd dealt her and the rest of the group, but her love for him had. He believed that.

For her to tell him, though, that she had decided to marry someone else … That he would neither allow nor accept. They both knew it was a lie, and lies,_ lies to him especially_, would never be tolerated.

Lying was a punishable offense in the Oniwabanshuu code and he would see to it that it remained enforced. Misao may have had her way with things while he was gone and things slowly declined, but he was not of the mind to let her have her way with everything. No one lied to the Okashira and most certainly not his wife-to-be.

There were still yet other things. Misao's question about what a man was supposed to provide a wife and the earnest curiosity in the question. That was what had changed everything if he were to sit down and pinpoint a specific event or question. That was when he realized he would never be able to provide a home, or have a family. That was when he realized, an epiphany of sorts, that in true, stark reality, Misao and he were really best suited for one another.

She didn't _want _anyone else and he couldn't _have _anyone else. It was something akin of a debt between them. He felt he owed her and that for all the wrongs he'd committed against her he rightfully belonged to her. That turning his attention toward another would be another insult, another hurt, another wrong heaped upon her and he couldn't do it. It was merely the pleasing culmination of all his wonderings and thoughts… He would be able to find out all those things he wondered about her.

Lastly, there was her comment about her clothes and whether or not she should be dressing more modestly. He could not look at her and think the attire was perfectly suitable when it made him think of running his hands up her thighs or gripping her narrow hips in his hands and pulling her into his lap.

For those reasons had he made his decision to take back his life and for those reasons did he want Misao back at the Aoiya.

* * *

AN: I just finished 7 and am about to start 8 so I'd thought I'd update this.


	6. VI of VIII

**Daughter Figure**

**6 of 8**

* * *

It took two weeks to locate the troublesome ninja girl. By that time he had nearly arranged everything for his upcoming marriage to Misao. He had everything except the girl in question. She hadn't been that far away and when word had been sent back to the Aoiya it had been very simple. 

_"Subject: Makimachi Misao located in -----. Subject seems to have been shopping for clothing. Subject is currently being escorted via guard back to the Aoiya." _

Shopping? Shopping for what, he wondered. He could only imagine her outrage once she was returned. He expected her soon as it was currently nearing sundown. The sun set on the other side of the Aoiya leaving his office dim. He had yet to light his candles.

_**"JIYA!" **_

His lips quirked upward; she had arrived. Escorted via "guard" typically, meant _armed guard_ and restraints for the 'subject'. He stood and made his way toward the front where he could see Misao struggling in the hold of a much larger man. She looked furious.

"We have found her, Aoshi-sama," the man, who Aoshi couldn't readily identify, stated in a clipped voice.

"Aa, good."

"YOU did this!" Misao shrieked, glaring at him as though she wished to strike him dead on the spot.

Aoshi stepped forward and gripped her shoulder, gently pulling her out of the restraining grasp of her guard.

"Come, we have things to discuss."

He left her wrists tied as they were behind her as he led her into the Aoiya. Okina would handle the men and their reward, he only wanted Misao back and he now had her.

"Untie me!" she demanded. "Why am I being carted around like a prisoner?"

No doubt they had had to hide from the police lest they draw suspicion. He pushed her ahead of him into his office and she kept right on glaring at him.

"Why did you run away?"

"I didn't run away!" she snapped. "I went shopping!"

"For two weeks?"

"I went to town looking to get some new clothes, the lady there said for what I was looking for it was in the next town over. I didn't think anyone would mind."

Aoshi shook his head briefly. "You are not allowed unexcused, unannounced absences."

She struggled, trying to get her wrists free. No doubt her kunai had been stripped from her.

"Being a member of the Oniwabanshuu your first duty, Misao, is obedience to our code and to me. Yours is doubly important because not only do you serve me, you are marrying me."

She scowled. "I did not agree to that."

He motioned her around the desk and she came, albeit with a glum face. He grabbed her arm and turned her back to him. Sliding open a desk drawer he withdrew a small dagger and cut through the ropes at her wrists. Her skin was red and burned from the rope; no doubt she had struggled the entire way. She pulled her arms forward, sighing softly as they were freed and he pulled her into his lap. She yelped, started, and tried to get back up.

He pulled her flat against his chest and leaned so his mouth was near her ear. "I understand you're no longer a little girl, Misao."

He cupped his hand against her narrow kneecap and started sliding it up, against her thigh. He dipped his hand, letting his fingers graze the skin along the inside.

He whispered his voice husky. "Are you ready to be a woman?"

He gently pushed her off his lap and she looked back, eyes wide, surprised. She just stared at him as though she couldn't quite figure out what had happened to him.

"Eh-"

She blinked in amazement. She stared there and looked at him before moving toward the door dazedly. She slid open the door just wide enough to squeeze out and disappeared.

* * *

Midnight was her favorite time of day. She liked to sit in the window and stare up at the sky when the moon was bright and full. She especially liked when it was semi-cloudy and she got to see the clouds illuminated by the light of the moon. Okina had told her just after dinner that they were set to be married the day after tomorrow. 

Misao couldn't figure out how she felt about it. One on hand, this was what she wanted. On the other hand, it wasn't what she wanted. It was against what she'd decided to do. She didn't understand what had caused his sudden turnabout and that was causing even more apprehension.

She sighed unhappily. What should she do? Maybe she should try to talk it out with him? To see what he said about it, perhaps? Did he want to marry her? Did he have some other reasons? Did he just want the title of Okashira back? Did he think she couldn't handle the job? Why weren't there any easy answers to anything? Did she want to marry him?

Yes.

Did she want him to feel obligated or responsible for marrying her?

No.

Was it too much to ask to be wanted?

She didn't think so, maybe she was being unrealistic? Too emotional? Too romantic or girlish She turned away from the window and moved toward her bed. She might as well try to get some sleep.

* * *

Morning brought a sense of dampened excitement. Omasu and Okon were humming with anticipation as they prepared Misao's garments. They had neither the time nor the money to afford the elaborate wedding kimono of traditional weddings, but the white silk kimono procured for her was lovely all the same. 

The wedding was tomorrow. The two women of the Aoiya had gone overboard, procuring heaps of white flowers of all types. Misao eyed it all with uneasiness. How was she supposed to feel? She had gotten her stuff from her shopping expedition back from Okina and dressed now in purple and blue. The hakama had been a brilliant idea and she found she liked it.

Though she liked the fancy western clothes, she found she was partial to the traditional wear of her own country for everyday life as it was less bulky and easier to move about in. That hadn't stopped her from browsing every western shop she'd passed by just for fun. With a virtual thundercloud over her head, she headed down the hall toward the Okashira's office.

She had visited this very room as a child and sat in Aoshi's lap while he read mission reports. Often times, she fell asleep there. It was that memory she thought of as she knocked on the door. She hadn't asked anyone if he was in there, but she assumed he was. When there was a call from inside, she realized her guess was correct.

She peeked and then stepped in, sliding the door mostly closed behind her. There was some cautious part of her that remembered his hand on her thigh, touching her so intimately that made her think both of the thug from Tokyo and of her own blossoming feelings toward Aoshi that were less than innocent.

Far from it, in fact.

She had few innocent thoughts about him, but there was a wide chasm between fantasy and reality most times.

"Aoshi-sama?"

"Aa?"

He peered up at her as she came to stand in front of his desk. She didn't know what he was reading and she didn't care enough to ask, but she was a little curious about it.

"Um… " She frowned. How was she supposed to address this?

He just stared at her.

She fidgeted. "About tomorrow…"

His gaze seemed to soften. "Are you uneasy?"

She nodded.

He sat back in his chair, pushing his shoulders back and moving his hips forward in the seat. "About what?"

"Just everything, what does it have to be one thing? Why do you want to do this? Why don't you have to be the one giving reasons for stuff?"

He took a moment before answering. "We are best suited for one another, Misao, the kind of life I can provide for a woman wouldn't fit anyone outside of our organization."

She blinked in quiet surprise.

"You decided to get married because you couldn't marry anyone outside the Oniwabanshuu? That's a stupid reason. You could get a job with the new government and leave here and have a perfectly normal life."

The silence that fell between them was stifling to Misao. Was he considering that? Why didn't she ever keep her mouth shut?

"It wouldn't work," he answered.

It would, but she bit her tongue not to argue it.

"Misao…" he stood and walked around the desk where she was standing.

He rested against the edge of the desk, reaching for her. She didn't struggle as he pulled her gently toward him. He lowered his head to press his mouth to her ear and she trembled faintly. She didn't know what to do as she felt him press another kiss to her temple. "Do you want me to leave?"

With her face almost pressed against his chest and nearly surrounded him, she felt warm and comfortable. "No."

"Do you want a life without me?"

"Of course not," she snapped.

The heavy arms wrapped loosely about her waist tightened fractionally. "Do you want someone else to touch you?"

"…"

"Do you want forceful hands touching you roughly in places that are meant to be treated tenderly?"

"…" She shuddered at the thought.

"Would you feel uneasy in my hands?"

"No…" she murmured, pressing her cheek against the warm cloth covering his chest. Her face felt like it was on fire, did he have to ask these kinds of questions?

He clenched the bow at her back and pulled her back from him. She was reluctant to part from him and his warmth. One large hand slid up the smooth pane of her back to cup the back of her head. His fingers slid into her semi-loose bound hair above the braid, pulling, and she gasped at the unexpected sting. He leaned close touching his nose to hers.

"Do you want anyone but me?" he murmured, his voice silky.

Misao was lost, how could she win like this?

"I only want-"

"No," he cut her off, pressing a long slender finger to her lips. "Do you want _anyone _but _me?_"

"No, Aoshi-sama," she answered.

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked.

"I-"

"Do you want to marry me?" he asked again.

"Yes, I want to marry you but not-"

He put his finger over her lips again to quiet her.

"Go. Prepare yourself for our wedding."

She frowned but he pushed her back and she had no choice but to move or fall down with his pushing at her. She sighed and left.

She dissolved into a fit of nerves and spent the rest of the day in her room.

* * *

Morning brought chaos as it was discovered Misao was gone. Panic over ruined plans caused everyone to become jittery. Okon and Omasu were torn between outrage and sorrow. Shiro and Kuro took the news with frowns and confusion; even Okina hung his head in disappointment. 

Aoshi did nothing.

There was no call for her immediate return. There was no reward, no notice of her status as missing at all. When presented with the news that Misao was nowhere to be found, Aoshi sat a moment in silence and then retreated to his office and closed the door. He hadn't been seen almost seven in the morning and it was waning toward two o'clock.

The denizens of the Aoiya were unnerved by Aoshi's dispassionate reaction and his ensuing silence. Okon and Omasu had taken to pacing, muttering angrily to one another about Misao's audacity at ruining all their plans and her show of immaturity.

They bitterly scorned everything from how she refused to appreciate their fashion advice to her "so-called love" for "Aoshi-sama". Shiro and Kuro kept their mouths tightly closed and only nodded in accordance whenever one of the angry women dared to include them in the conversation.

Okina sat alone reading, stroking his beard as he worried and contemplated Misao's strange behavior. Running away was the most unexpected course of action... Perhaps if she'd been engaged to a stranger, but for her to run away from Aoshi?

Had he gone too far by speaking with Aoshi behind her back and stripping her of the Okashira's title without including her? Had that been too much? Was she too affronted, hurt by his refusal to acknowledge her as the victor of the battle, no matter how underhanded she had managed it...?

Yet, he could not deny that it had been a decent idea, had she been able to execute the idea in a more controlled way. She was a ninja and she had used what she thought was her only viable option and he respected that, but she had done so poorly without fully thinking over the consequences.

He sighed, saddened. Had Aoshi no plans to recover her? What did he mean by this inaction?

Absently, he pulled the tie from his beard and retied it. He could barely contain his restlessness. Abandoning his book, he stood and headed for the back garden. Some weeding would do his mind some good.

* * *

Aoshi sat in the office alone, searching through office drawers finding and running his fingers along her few possessions. 

Was he being rejected?

He had felt so sure that she would want this... That this was his future.. Yet again she left him feeling as though he had erroneously taken one step forward and off a cliff without realizing it until he was halfway to the ground.

He had no plans to go after her. He couldn't on good conscience force her to return when it would be _returning to him_. He could not, in any capacity, force something on her she didn't want and certainly not a marriage to him. He was willing to insist only to a certain point.

When and if it became so intolerable to her that she needed to runaway from him then he had pushed too far. He had pushed her away by trying to draw her close, perhaps too fast, perhaps closer than she was ready for… Perhaps he'd finally shown her that he was wrong for her? Perhaps his nagging doubts about her love for him being an infatuation had truly come to fruition? He didn't know.

He felt as though he didn't know anything. He was reeling in bewilderment over her hasty departure. The only things left in his rattled brain were three hollow echoing questions.

Would she come back?

What would he do if she did?

Worse yet, what would he do if she didn't?

* * *

AN: Almost over. Chapter 7 is really the best I think, I hope you'll like that one. As soon as I finish chapter 8 I'll post 7 and it'll be all over. I'm doing 8 today I just need to figure out what's happening in it. 


	7. VII of VIII

Daughter Figure

7 of 8

Revised June 18, 2011

* * *

The decision to leave the Aoiya had seemed like a good idea at the time. Everything stupid usually seems like a good idea at some point. She was scared and overwhelmed and feeling pressured. Now, alone and penniless and hungry, she realized she'd been impulsive and immature. She'd run away when things got serious.

The shame was crushing. It felt like one huge blotch that covered her from head to toe. In town, she'd felt like everyone could tell. That they could see she was a runaway, or worse, that they could tell she was a runaway _bride_. She had constantly peered over her shoulder, fearing there were Oniwabanshuu footmen looking for her but it had been peaceful. It seemed normal enough, but she kept looking. Kept wondering who could be watching her.

Overcome with suspicion and worry she'd ducked out of town and wandered the outskirts. At times, she had sat up in trees along the roadside, listening, watching for movement.

Nothing had come of it.

She had wandered toward Tokyo for a bit before turning back. Where was she going? Why? What had running done for her? Why was she out in the misty rain when she should've been home bathed in white silks and drinking sake?

No.

Instead, she had abandoned her husband-to-be and her family and all their preparations. She had committed the ultimate immature act. She felt horrid. Poorer still, despite her paranoia there were no signs that anyone at all was looking for her. She'd hadn't seen or heard a peep.

Nothing.

She felt like a ghost, a person awash in confusion. She felt like she should be standing under a bridge with the homeless, maybe skipping stones into the water whilst it rained on her. She felt like a still, sad painting.

She was a disappointment.

Their expectations had been betrayed, their wishes ignored… she had directly disobeyed the word of the new Okashira.

She…

She had just proven she was the baby they all still treated her as. She didn't know which was worse, standing out in the rain or going back to the Aoiya. She hadn't slept or eaten in over 12 hours. Her skin was pale and cold, her clothes damp from the weather, her eyes bloodshot. Her stomach continued to growl at her for not eating and now her head throbbed periodically from lack of food. Her body was grumbling at her for its abuse and she continued to ignore it, pushing on.

Pushing on to nowhere.

She'd even gone in giant circles, just walking, around and around endlessly. She had met no travelers, ducking away into hiding anytime anyone came near.

She was a coward.

She was a baby.

She was beyond ashamed at her actions. She had been given everything she ever wanted. It had been dropped in her lap, offered up to her, and she'd run away from it.

A princess pampered with everything she asked for and still unhappy and why?

Why was that?

Was she unhappy?

No.

She was afraid.

Afraid he didn't love her; afraid she didn't love him, afraid she wasn't good enough, afraid their marriage wouldn't last, afraid she would embarrass him…

There were so many things to be afraid of. Most of them were about herself. She'd never known she had such insecurities. Not until they were seemingly dumped upon her head like a bucket of icy water and she was drowning in that bucket. Gasping and thrashing and losing against the pitching waves and there was no one there. No one to stop her from her metaphorical drowning because she'd run away from them. She'd run away from what she thought were meaningless placations and condescending remarks. She'd run away and she deserved to be alone. She deserved to suffer under the weight of her own shame.

With a heart heavy full of gloom, she turned around and began heading toward the Aoiya.

Maybe it wouldn't be a disaster.

Or, maybe it would start raining kittens.

* * *

His mood rapidly deteriorated as the hours ticked by.

Rapidly.

He had decided it was time to run a tighter operation and had implemented an entirely new rule system. Guests to the Aoiya Inn were only permitted in so many rooms and allowed to sleep in certain other rooms that had once been open to them. His office was no longer open to Oniwabanshuu personnel without his presence or express permission. He was not to be disturbed outside of meal times unless there was business that required his urgent attention.

Guests were not being entertained and were ordered turned away.

He spent his hours standing by the window, staring outside into the sky. His thoughts wandered from topic to topic. Misao was a worry, a constant worry, a bee that wandered about in circles on the back of his hand, periodically stinging him.

Where was she?

Why wasn't she back yet?

Desperation had set in as his doubts grew, the shadows in his heart lengthening and growing.

He had been deserted.

She had left him, the one person in the world who cared about him more than all else had finally left. The last straw broken.

It was crushing.

When a knock came upon his door, it was not welcomed. He met intrusions with cold stares and snapped answers. He didn't even turn back to see who had come upon him. From the doorway, a voice he half-expected spoke up.

"You're behaving foolishly." He turned tired, cold eyes toward his _visitor_. Okina, wizened with age regarded him with impassivity. "You need to go find her, she is obviously upset," Okina continued. "Waiting for her will reinforce her fears."

"You cannot know that," Aoshi replied evenly. "It depends on what fears she harbors."

"Again, you are being foolish, Aoshi. Misao's fears always lie in you."

"…"

"Will you ignore it then? What if she wanders, waiting for you to come for her and you do not and she becomes discouraged?"

"Perhaps she wishes time to think on her own," Aoshi suggested sharply.

"Misao is not like you. You have had many years away. Consider: when Misao was young did she not often engage in outrageous stunts to gain your attention?"

"She is no longer a child," Aoshi replied.

"No, but she is still a female; one who very much wishes for your attention."

"I gave her my attention," Aoshi countered. "… and she left."

Okina shook his head hopelessly. "What if you are wrong? To what harm could going after her bring? She has, after all, already left you."

He eyed the older man with a frown.

Was he right?

Should he go after Misao?

* * *

The road was dreary.

The rain had come in the form of fog and mist and left her chilled. The bag on her shoulder seemed heavier than usual and the ground was soft. Her feet sank in as she walked leaving a trail of footsteps behind her.

Had she been worried about being followed she'd have taken to the grass, but the dirt path road was the most direct route back to the city. After all, no one was looking for her, of that she was certain. She walked slowly, alternating between being hopeful about going back and dreading it.

After all, he wasn't even looking for her. The road was void of travelers except for those who absolutely needed to be places. The saner, less hurried persons had taken shelter to warm themselves. She continued on, feeling melancholy.

For the specific time of day, the fog was unusual, but maybe the mist was simply too thick and she was mistaking it for fog. The skies were deep gray on one side and light gray on the other, but thickly cloudy on both sides.

She turned her eyes to the path before her with a dismal sigh.

Ahead of her she spotted another voyager. By now she had to be only an hour outside of Kyoto. The figure was tall and a bit slender, from the shape she'd say male. The clothes were a giveaway on that.

In fact…

It looked strikingly like Aoshi-sama, something she had not wanted to acknowledge, too afraid to be let down when the person came near enough to see clearly.

But now she could tell…

The gentle sway of the ivory coat, the deep colored pants, the beautiful obsidian locks…

It _was_ Aoshi-sama.

Her heart leapt to her throat, pounding hard. Her feet drew her to a stop. Aoshi-sama… Where was he going? Was he looking for her? Was he… did she dare hope he'd come after her?

Oh, no!

Aoshi-sama was the Okashira now…

She'd disobeyed him. She'd run away and… Should she run?

Panic seized her wholly. Should she…hide?

The air was still and the steady tickling of the mist continued down around her, against her. She felt like she was in a void and all the while he walked steadily closer. He stopped several feet back a good impersonal distance away. She looked uneasy.

"Where are you going?" he asked his voice vacant.

She fidgeted. "Back," she paused. "Home, I mean, back home."

His eyes flickered over her once as though trying to assess where she'd been.

"Where had you gone to?"

She averted her gaze. "… nowhere."

The silence made it seem as though a great distance was between them when they were only feet apart. "You aim to keep your destination a secret then?" His voice was stiff, the cold tone of an interrogator.

"N-No! I just… I didn't go anywhere. I just sort of… wandered around."

"You spent our wedding day…"

She immediately dreaded where this was going.

"… wandering amongst the treetops?"

Sure, he'd have to say it that way, wouldn't he?

"I'm sorry, Aoshi-sama," she sighed, feeling defeated. "I am so, _so_ sorry." He wasn't wrong, she thought, feeling ashamed. She was the one who had been wrong. "I just wanted some… air."

Worse yet, she felt no better about her upcoming marriage than she had felt when she left.

He didn't say anything at first, they just stood there. She crossed her arms before her chest uncomfortable and he stepped back yet another pace. "Return to the Aoiya."

She nodded dumbly.

"Your recklessness caused a waste of time, effort, and money for the Aoiya. You disobeyed my orders. Until further notice you are bound to your room."

She nodded again.

He walked back with her, if one counted walking so far behind her that one would never guess the two knew one another.

* * *

The atmosphere of the Aoiya was tense when she returned. Aoshi-sama, who had sneaked up behind her was silent and his presence kept _everyone else_ silent. They walked through the restaurant. A few faces turned to glance at them but nothing significant, and they remained largely unnoticed.

They hadn't gone through the front doors for convenience, that she knew it had been done so that Aoshi-sama could demonstrate to the others that he'd found her. That he'd _returned_ her.

She wanted to growl and snap but instead kept her mouth firmly shut and her eyes straight ahead. There was a faint undercurrent of fear trembling through her veins. This…This was what she'd wanted, she realized.

Years and years on end she'd wanted nothing but for Aoshi-sama and the others to come back and for her to be able to learn and grow as a ninja under his tutelage. Now, he returned and what had she done but run away?

What was wrong with her?

She didn't realize she'd stopped at the base of the stairs until she felt a tiny puff of air at her ear. Close and hot. Then she felt the rest of him, the long hard body that was Aoshi-sama.

He wasn't pressed against her, it was more of a … _sense_ she had that he was there. Something that she could feel without feeling, an awareness. She could feel his tension, it poured off of him and into her. The mouth by her ear got closer and a moment later she felt his teeth as they snapped harshly around the delicate shell of her ear. A half strangled gasp escaped from her lips in response, her insides coiled, her muscles strained with tension.

This was what she wanted… she had wanted him back. Dreamed of it, lived for it even…

He released her flesh and lapped it gently with his tongue.

"To… your… room…" he growled, his voice low and even and angry. The tone scraped along her skin like nails, she trembled. Part of her wanted to run away and the other part wanted to turn around and open herself to him, to beg for him to release all that violent tension on her… maybe to punish her, maybe just to… to…

"Now!" he snapped lowly and she ran up the stairs, startled. She fled into her bedroom and closed the door behind her but she was no safer in her chambers from him than she had been at the bottom of the stairs.

She leaned her back against the wall, panting from her effort. Her heart pounded.

Her childhood dreams of Aoshi-sama had been idealized visions. She'd captured the parts of him he'd let her see, the parts of him that he'd given to the girl that was a _child_. She was a baby no longer.

Those fanciful childhood visions were curling around the edges and singeing like paper too close to a flame. The beautiful color tones of her memory turned gray, charring into a dusty ash as they crumbled.

She realized something now she had never understood, never even occurred to her before…She knew _nothing_ about the kind of man Aoshi-sama had been when he was Okashira.

Absolutely nothing.

The man that Aoshi was, her Okashira, was _terrifying._


	8. VIII of VIII

Figure

8 of 8

* * *

She knew what was going on down there.

Downstairs.

They were making preparations for the wedding.

Her wedding.

Her wedding to Aoshi-sama… She wondered then, was he deserving of that title? Did she know if he was? Did his status as Okashira automatically award him that honor? She had always given it to him as had the others but… she didn't know. She felt like she didn't know anything. Her entire world view had been painted over in foreign colors.

She'd been _home_ for almost a day and a half. Aoshi-sama had forbidden her from leaving her room. He'd gone so far as to station a guard beneath her window and one at the base of the stairs to prevent her from escaping. Whenever she left her room, Omasu was to escort her. Feeling humiliated by the fact that she was no longer trusted, she'd secluded herself in her chambers quite happily.

What was she confused over? When had this confusion started? She sighed softly and stood up. She knew one thing for certain. She was afraid of the angry, cold man that Aoshi had become, seemingly in the blink of an eye. Maybe she should talk to him?

The curt sound of knocking had Misao on her feet. She'd been so flighty lately, afraid he was going to come to her door and… and… well she wasn't sure what she was afraid he'd do, just afraid that'd he'd do it.

The door slid open and revealed it was Omasu with a small tray of soup. The older woman smiled. After the initial two hour lecture from her and then another from Okon they had calmed a bit.

"Brought you some soup, Shiro just made it. He says he hopes you cheer up soon. Everyone is so gloomy. It hasn't been this bad around here since the old war days."

"The old war days?"

Omasu nodded. "After hours it was always very tense and quiet like everyone was afraid to talk too loud. After you came to us with Aoshi that all changed but now… it's like a return to the past."

Misao frowned. "Was he like this when he was Okashira before? Before he left? What was he like then?"

"Hmmm, well, he was really pretty much the same," she answered. "I don't remember him doing anything he doesn't do now. Why? What do you mean?"

"Was he always so…" Misao trailed off briefly. "…scary?"

Omasu leaned forward. "Scary how?"

"He's just so…."

"Misao." Omasu gently laid her hands over Misao's. The girl had twisted her fingers together in her lap anxiously. "Aoshi-sama is the same now that he's always been."

"Always? So intense? Like he could burn holes through you? I don't remember him being that way."

Omasu's expression gentled, tension lines fading into smooth skin. She crawled closer so that she and the girl sat close, side by side. "Misao, Aoshi-sama was your guardian for a long time. He was your appointed caretaker and he brought you to us so we could keep you safe for him. When you're the guardian of a child you don't want them to be afraid of you…"

"I don't understand. Are you saying the Aoshi-sama I remember wasn't real?"

"No, he was real but what you held with him with familial. It was a bond of family you had, that's not the kind of _man_ that he is, do you understand?"

"No."

Omasu sighed. "Aoshi-sama was taking care of you, a child. He couldn't treat you like an adult or a woman because you were neither. Now you are, you don't remember the man he was because he _wasn't_ that man to you _then_. _Now _you're the woman he's going to marry. Aoshi-sama is a very intense man, very demanding and… dare I say, obsessive?"

"I'm meeting a man that was always there but that I didn't know was there?" Misao's eyes flickered closed. "Should that scare me?"

"It's okay if it does. Aoshi-sama has had a long journey and I want you to remember that. He's done bad things and there are probably parts of him inside that are still dark and scarred."

Misao's eyes widened at the solemn warning.

"I'm not saying he's going to hurt you," Omasu back peddled. "Just that you need to remember he's had a hard time and you need to be prepared for where that goes. Life with Aoshi-sama is going to be a journey for you and you could all but bet it won't be an easy one."

Misao nodded.

"It doesn't mean it'll be bad. I'm sure the part of him that took care of you when you were a child is still there. If you love him, though, you'll accept the man that he is now, right?"

Misao nodded again.

"Good and no more running away, right?"

"Right. I'm sorry about that. Is he still angry?"

Omasu stood with a small smile. "I'm pretty sure he's still stewing over something. He doesn't come out of the office lately much but today he did. He's been in the dojo for almost two hours now. We think it's a good sign."

"Oh."

"Eat your soup and then we can go down if you want. You could always try talking to him."

* * *

Sweat was pouring down his body, soaking into his clothes. His muscles burned and ached, but he wouldn't release his blades. He had to stay, he had to practice. He needed to work through this stress. He couldn't leave the training hall. He couldn't.

_Misao_...

He'd tried so hard to stay away from her. She couldn't possibly know how much of his day spent 'meditating' was lost to him and his erotic daydreams about her. She couldn't possibly know how he awoke in cold sweats at night, aching, restraining himself from stomping down the hall and living out his fantasies. He cringed, his left kodachi banging to the floor. He snarled at himself in frustration and dropped the other kodachi to the floor.

He wanted her so violently some days that he hated himself for thinking of anyone other than him touching her. He was lost and found and unsure. Misao was his now, he had guaranteed that, _she had_ with her unexpected battle tactics.

He didn't turn around when someone knocked meekly at his door. It was either Omasu or Okon. The door slid open without his permission and he waited, listening.

"Aoshi-sama, Misao would like to see you. Is that permissible?"

"Bring her," he responded his voice low and tight.

He could barely hear her hesitant footsteps in the room. She was moving so warily. There was no need to see her to know that she was standing uneasily behind him. Maybe her hands would be folded, maybe she was staring at his back, maybe at the ground…

"Yes, Misao?"

What did she come for?

"Um… I wanted to say I was sorry. I had a talk with Omasu and it helped a lot."

"Helped with what?" he pressed. What was wrong with her in the first place? Did she not love him? Had she been mistaken in her feelings and upon the eve of marriage she realized she did not?

"Helped with understanding."

"Understanding _what?" _

"Stuff," she replied. "I had decided to give up on you, I decided to be a… a… just different and then suddenly you warped into someone different, too. I was just confused, I didn't mean to run away, I couldn't sleep, my heart wouldn't stop pounding, I felt like I couldn't breathe so I went out to get some air but… but once I got so far …Running away doesn't help it just makes it harder because then you get filled with 'what ifs' and it just keeps going and going…"

Again, Misao's maturity struck him like lighting through the clouds, brief, powerful, and illuminating.

"May I put your mind at ease about something?" he offered.

What _exactly_ was bothering her?

"Probably, but I'm not sure how. It'll go away I think. Omasu helped a lot."

He stared and she fidgeted.

"I mean… I don't want to tell you because you'll get the wrong idea about what I was thinking. I just, you weren't behaving like _you." _

He turned away and reached down, scooping up one of his kodachi. He tossed it toward the floor at her feet, letting it skid by her ankle. She glanced down at it.

"Come, let me show you how that works."

He moved slow with his aching muscles and Misao eagerly took up the kodachi. Paying close attention to her movements, he watched her anxiety slowly vanish as she took to her new training with relish, listening attentively to his instructions. Whatever fears she had seemed to rest as they continued on with the lesson.

Bursting with enthusiasm she did a clumsy forward thrust and spun around a few times, tipping precariously as her arm was unfamiliar with the weight of the blade.

"Oop!" her arm weakened and she had to lower it. The end of the blade scarring the smooth floor.

As she looked up her bright smile faded, replaced by a flash of insecurity and then quickly a small grin as she tried to hide it. **_Now _**he knew what her problem was, he knew what was bothering her. Misao was used to being treated as a child, a subservient to him…She was afraid of him treating her like an _adult._

"You're afraid of me?"

He saw her almost impulsively deny it. It was second nature of hers to deny and defend.

She fought it an answered him honestly. "You're not who I remember anymore."

No.

He wasn't.

He took some odd pride in the fact that she'd noticed, that she understood he was not the hero of her childhood fantasies. He motioned her forward and she pulled the sword tip from the floor so it didn't drag. Holding his hand out she raised the sword up and handed it to him trying to keep their hands from touching.

He slipped it from her fingers and tossed it behind him. He listened to it skid across the floor.

How long?

How long would it take for her to conceive? How would she react to being pregnant? How would she look with that thin frame filled out and rounded by pregnancy? Would birthing be difficult for her with those narrow hips? How would she mother their child?

"When are we getting married?" she asked, her voice small and anxious.

"Tonight," he replied. He turned his gaze to her once more having drifted away in his thoughts. Tonight they would be married and he would have nothing more to worry over. Not his feelings, not his lust, not his life… he had back the things he'd cast away, he'd been given them back to an extent and he never wanted to part from them again.

The fond memories of Misao's childhood were put away, replaced by the pretty visions of Misao as an adult, a woman who would be with him by dark and rise with him. For the first time in a long time he found himself certain of the path he wanted to take and fairly certain of its outcome.

As conversation lapsed and with an uncertain glance in his direction, she escaped out the door. With his lustful thoughts running about his head in such an uncontrolled manner, he was glad to see her go.

* * *

Late that evening, after the wedding, after the party, after the alcohol, Misao retired to her room alone. Overcome with anxiety as she waited for Aoshi-same to show, she slipped out an upstairs window and escaped into Okina's garden.

She was officially wed.

She was a _married _woman.

The thought that she was now part of that group of society women woke something in her and that part seemed to exude warmth. She was a married woman!

Better than the fact that she was married when she'd once feared she'd never marry was the fact that she was married to Aoshi-sama. It was her life dream come true. Unfortunately, the sparkling rainbow colors of fantasy had been repainted in the harsh black, white, and gray tones of reality.

She stood beneath a tree, tempted to hide behind it but she dared not reinforce the idea that she'd run away again. If someone came looking she would be easy to find… she'd often come outside to the garden in her youth when she couldn't sleep. Aoshi-sama would know to check for her there.

That, however, was part of the problem. The dark part of Aoshi-sama scared her a little bit. The entire situation frightened her in some degree or another. It was an entirely new saga of life and she felt completely unprepared. She tilted her head back and looked up at the canopy of her head.

She heard footsteps, no doubt purposely loud, and looked up to see him. He was tall and thin and looked menacing in the darkness. He was wearing something dark. He'd dressed in a black wedding kimono and if she wasn't mistaken he was still wearing it.

He stopped several feet away from her and stared. She could barely see his silhouette.

"Are you afraid?"

Dare she answer the truth or should she lie?

"A little bit." Half truths were always more convincing, she decided, pulling her hands behind her back nervously.

"Of tonight or more?"

She sighed. "Of everything."

"Misao," he paused. "You can solve nothing by worrying over it."

She nodded before realizing he probably couldn't see her doing it.

"That's different. Before I was always working towards something, usually something toward you and now it isn't that way anymore. Even when I decided to take over the Okashira position it was because you forced me to do it but now…"

"…"

"If you work towards something and then you get it but… then the person involved isn't quite what you thought but they're still the same person… is it supposed to be this confusing? Plus here's that little… um… wedding stuff."

"Are you confused about the man that I am?"

"No, yes. Omasu says- okay never mind what she says. I'm just trying to rush too much I think. I'll… it'll be okay."

He stepped forward and she felt her breath quicken. "Not even you, Misao, can conquer the world in a day."

She smiled softly, gasping as he lifted her up into his arms and started back toward the Aoiya. "Doesn't mean I wouldn't try," she murmured.

Amusement settled over her like a warm blanket for a brief moment.

"For the other worries you have, experience will cure them."

She settled back against him and let him carry her to his room. Or, was it their room? When the door slid closed behind him she heard Omasu's words echo back in her head once more.

"_Life with Aoshi-sama is going to be a journey for you and you could all but bet it won't be an easy one. It doesn't mean it'll be bad. If you love him, though, you'll accept the man that he is now, right?"_

She was struck then with inspiration. She wasn't lost at all! Her new object was right in front of her! Not to turn herself into his daughter figure, not to cast away her feelings for him, not to see him up with another woman, not any of those things.

It was time for her to learn about the man that Aoshi-sama _truly _was. With him at her side she could learn and grow and watch him do the same, she could learn all the things she _thought _she knew or relearn them or learn new things.

Overcome with enthusiasm the moment he set her feet upon the ground she leapt at him, back into his arms.

"You're right, Aoshi-sama!"

He cocked an eyebrow at her in curiosity.

"I don't have to tackle the world in one day; I can tackle it a little bit at a time."

He didn't seem to share her enthusiasm for the topic. "Aa," he answered absently. His hands were large at her waist and warm. She could feel him pulling at her obi.

"Are you ready to get tackled, Aoshi-sama?"

He leaned down and she could feel the curve of his lips against her cheek. "For tonight, Misao, leave the tackling to me." His voice was low and husky and it made her tremble. Her face flushed, her heart thudded heavily and her breaths felt shallow.

She felt herself almost forcing a laugh in her nervousness as he very gently _tackled_ her to the futon mat.

He lowered his head and his mouth was hot against her neck. She tried to speak, she was certain she did, but afterwards she'd never remember what she said and by that point she didn't care anymore. She was _married_ to Aoshi-sama. She felt like she had already conquered the world.

* * *

AN: Well that was a horrible experience, I am glad it's over. The entire second half of this fic felt like a cheap rip off of "Decay" by Hikaru and so I didn't want to write it anymore. I'm just glad it's over. I feel like a bug spattered on a windshield.

Second half of this fic inspired by Hikaru's "Decay" in case you didn't gather that from the above paragraph. I believe I sent it to her at some point to ask her permission.


End file.
